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2025-12-17: Reasons

2025-12-18T08:43:57Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: Reasons''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Tsumugi Kujaku *'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' December 17, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 27, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Myunghon cancels on their plans with Tsumugi following their self-poisoning, but the purveyor of Peacock Silk visits them in intrigue instead.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> Myunghon Yeo has had a very difficult couple of days -- in no small pa..."

*'''Log: Reasons'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Tsumugi Kujaku]]
*'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' December 17, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 27, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Myunghon cancels on their plans with Tsumugi following their self-poisoning, but the purveyor of Peacock Silk visits them in intrigue instead.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon Yeo has had a very difficult couple of days -- in no small part because they made a mistake and hurt the people that'd come close to them. The next few days have been one of recovery, and at some point they did remember that they had a date set with Tsumugi and ended up texting them:

> sorry, feeling quite ill due to... reasons
> i'm not certain i have the strength to go out

Their recovery's been slow and laborious since then, and they've been focusing on trying to rest downstairs at the Cardboard Dragon itself because it's been pointed out multiple times that the mouldy hellscape of the third floor isn't actually going to be conductive. The rumourmonger is splayed out on the couch with a blanket with a large mug of piping-hot tea next to them on the couch, slipping in and out of sleep with their breath laborious. They have a surgical mask on from where they suspect that they might've caught a cold from their vulnerable state.

They don't have their binder on and has a roomy t-shirt long enough to be a gown, with an anthromorphic mug holding a mirror that says: I AIN'T THE ONLY ONE WITH AN UGLY MUG
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
Reasons.

There's reasons for everything, isn't there? Even the most seemingly irrational acts have some manner of reason compelling them forward. To say something happened for a 'reason' is just about as close to absolute vagueness as one can get while still, technically, being honest.

But someone claiming something happened for 'reasons' always, inevitably, invites a singular question, asked or not.

There's no answer to Myunghon's texts. Given the ecclectic behavior of Tsumugi Kujaku, it's an open question if they ever saw or read them. And so Myunghon is left to their own devices in the Cardboard Dragon as time ticks closer to the appointed hour of their failed date, with only their slowly cooling tea and blanket to keep them company.

In and out they drift, between consciousness, not, and the liminal spaces 'twixt the two.

And it's as their eyes shut, as they fall towards sleep for who knows how long how who knows how many times today, as their eye slowly creaks open from that fitful slumber...

They'll find Tsumugi Kujaku, upper body draped over the top of the couch, their red sleeveless button-up and black slacks combo tailored to sleek perfection, with black suspenders to stylishly support it, staring down at Myunghon with those unblinking, green eyes, one hidden partially by the gravity-assisted hang of their bangs.

A black tie, striped down the center in gold, dangles a few inches from tickling the tip of Myunghon's nose, but they remain silent until the exact moment that wakefulness compels Myunghon's eye open. And then?

"What reasons?"

They ask that singular question they were invited to.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
For Myunghon, it's one of those moments where the lapse between wakefulness feels like mere seconds -- and such where they lull into sleep one moment and then find Tsumugi there the next, in what almost feels like the purveyor of the Peacock Silk teleported into shape, they startle rather easily and nearly take a rather hapless swing with their sleeve and stop midway through. Their bandages aren't as well-assembled as they'd like, revealing the extensive scarring underneath.

They're still wheezing, a mild dyspnea still persistent.

Myunghon's arms both rest, with those hyperlong sleeves since the T-shirt is one of those long-sleeved ones where a different fabric exists underneath, on Tsumugi's shoulders, as if they can trace the line of their collarbone against their button-up.

They look gorgeous as always...

"... I tried to kill myself again," is weak, unvarnished truth Myunghon goes with. No more Magic River Teleportation. No more joking around. People are hurt because of them now... this is their truth.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
Arms swing out. Tsumugi doesn't flinch. Doesn't blink. Doesn't move.

They just continue watching Myunghon with that quietly intense stare as hands stop just shy of striking them.

No; they only move once their question is answered, with the shallow cant of their head as sleeve-drowned arms fall on their shoulders.

"..."

As ever, as always, there's no outward reaction to Myunghon's confession, bald-faced as it is. Stripped of the grim mirth of the Cardboard Dragon owner's typical entendre. They just consider Myunghon's pallid features; the scarring half-hidden beneath loose bandages; the weak quaver of their words. The soft wheeze of their breath.

"Again," they repeat, hooking on to that final, revelatory word. The word of a pattern.

Overlong fabric drapes further over Tsumugi's shoulders as they press inward on the top of that sofa, drawing closer to Myunghon. Their necktie pools in black, layering loops just over the image of that anthropomorphized mug the closer they draw inward.

"Are you trying to escape, Myunghon?"

The other question that follows in the wake of the 'reason'.

Why?

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon pauses and leaves their mouth half-open at Tsumugi's pointed question. They're used to the way the extravagant owner of the Peacock Silk presses upon them by this point, but it takes them quite a bit to consider and try to collect their thoughts ta this point.

"You asked me if I was alive, when we first met," they mumble quietly, nestling their head and nest of white hair down on Tsumugi's shoulder. "Perhaps the answer is that I wasn't... I was always suffocating," they echo the question they had last time, "Trying to escape..."

They grow a little limp in their presence. Despite everything, Tsumugi is warm, because like the last time they spoke: they can get sick. They can suffer. They can cry. ... they can lose.

Just like them.

"... I became attached to so many people in such a short amount of time. You among them..." Myunghon murmurs. "I can't just let them down anymore. But I did."

There's a timorous little chuckle as they say, "Even only a few months ago, before June, I was much more alone. Ready to disappear... It has been an eventful summer..."
Hazuki Nakao has arrived from Historia: The White Chronicle.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
They are warm. The pallor and fever that reigned over Tsumugi the last time they met is no longer there, but it only serves to underscore the memory, in many ways, and their words.

They can suffer. Cry. Lose.

It's the human condition.

"It's the privilege of the living to seek desperate relief from their condition, Myunghon."

It's the consequence of life.

Their words are distant, like the sharpest contrast to the warmth of their bodyheat as Myunghon nestles in against their shoulder. So too, is the warmth of their fingers as they find their way winding 'round Myunghon's forearms, as if to brace them in that position they've currently adopted as the rumormonger speaks.

And as they speak of the many connections they've made in such a staggeringly short time, green eyes hood.

"... And now you're wrapped up in a tangle of threads," they say, simply, in the waning moments of Myunghon's quivered chuckle. "Thinking that you have to live up to our expectations. But you don't.

"Living for others isn't living. It's just a death of a different kind."

They fall silent, again. It's a silence that lingers for six heavy seconds before they ask something, abruptly:

"What does the best of all possible worlds look like in your eyes, Myunghon?"

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Tsumugi's words ''are'' distant, but they're a familiar kind of distance, at this point. They understand the way they perceive relations, and how one should strive to live for themselves, and not be fettered to another. And yet... ...is that entirely true? They wonder about the decision Tsumugi's made to come here after they sent that text.

Perhaps they could deflect and say that it was the 'reasons' that intrigued them, not that they were worried they were sick. They don't think there'd be much point going down that discussion route, they can gauge how it'd go.

But that silence does fall heavy.

"That's a pessimistic way of thinking about it, but..." Myunghon murmurs, but then pointedly gazes towards Tsumugi's green eyes, still enraptured by them.

"... but ..."

A longer pause, as they consider the question, but instead says:

"... you choose life every time, don't you, Tsumugi Kujaku? When you urge me to grasp at true power, when you tell me to be free of my gilded cage, when you ask me to imagine the best of all possible worlds..."

They lean forward and seek out a kiss.

If they do find purchase, it's one that's borne of more than a little neediness, grasping at that collarbone and rounding towards their back.

"It..."

They let go, because they find their lungs constricting right now.

"... it would certainly be one with you in it."

A pause.

"Because you have no interest in a corpse, do you?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
Is it entirely true?

Was curiosity the sole compulsion that brought Tsumugi Kujaku here?

Their own 'reasons' beg those two questions of what and why -- and yet no answer is truly forthcoming. Nor would it if they were asked, really. Like so many of their encounters, like so many personal things about Tsumugi, there are only glimpses to be interpreted.

Even now, when Myunghon Yeo is so open in starkest contrast.

''That's a pessimistic way of thinking about it, but...''

Green eyes stare into that single grey, unblinking.

"'The basis of optimism is sheer terror,'" they recite within the trail of Myunghon's thoughts, a dovetail into that thematic throughline they so often discuss, if this time via a different author, from a different era entirely.

But it's a quote that whispers in the scant space between them and then vanishes, entirely, forgotten by the moment Myunghon's lips find Tsumugi's. All that lingers is that one question:

''... you choose life every time, don't you, Tsumugi Kujaku?''

It's a kiss that lingers in short-lived need. Physiological demands ensure it cannot last as long as it, perhaps, wants. Their lips remain parted for a moment as Myunghon lets go, and offers a glimpse of their vision of the best of all worlds.

A world that has Tsumugi Kujaku in it.

"..."

They have no interest in a corpse. Their eyes shut. And when they reopen, they fix forward, staring at the distant wall.

"There are people in your life who have expectations of who you are and what you could and should be. The people of the Cardboard Dragon. The people inspired by Rumormonger Merry. The men and women who work for you. Your mother. Me."

Hands on Myunghon's arms glide down, their touch warm and certain as they settle along the Cardboard Dragon proprietor's shoulder blades.

"Who you are. Who you're expected to be. Who you want to be. Only one of those really matters. You're suffocating because you've never dared to draw your first gasp of oxygen on your own."

Thumbs rest on Myunghon's spine, lost in a drench of voluminous fabric spilling around their fingertips as Tsumugi's gaze returns to Myunghon's own.

"That's what I want. I choose life because it's more compelling. Because I don't think a sudden end is what you really want. If this is the shape your first and last gasp took... I'd respect it."

A second's worth of silence comes and goes, before dark lips part.

"... But the world would be a less interesting place without you in it."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"'We think that we are generous because we credit our neighbour with the possession of those virtues that are likely to be a benefit to us,'" Myunghon whispers half-breathlessly, breaking back from that kiss. "Was that the world you escaped from, Tsumugi Kujaku...?"

It does, in many ways, feel like the world they escaped from. Their entire life has been nothing but appeasement of one person or another, has it not? One mask to fit the other, whether it is their father and their academic grinder and pipeline to corporate murder, or their mother and their designs to slot them into a criminal mastermind, or even now...

That gaze of Tsumugi's is distant. It feels meaningful, when they choose to not look at someone.

Where is it that they gaze? They can't trace the line and triangulate. That space is entirely for their own. Yet...

They coax, with their own fingers, Tsumugi's chin to look back towards them, while they speak of the people in their life that have expectations of them.

"I chose life on that day, when the snow turned to rain, when I awoke to the truth of the world... but in many ways, it doesn't feel as if I've meant it, has it?"

Tsumugi's assessment is blunt. But it doesn't feel particularly damning. Myunghon's come to realise there's a comfort in that detachment that one could find cold, but they find... soothing, perhaps, the way that they can't seem to meaningfully disappoint or elate Tsumugi, only intrigue.

(Then, will the day come when they become unintriguing? the nagging voice whispers.)

Tsumugi does point out that they'd respect if if this was the first and last gasp they took, in this shape.

Myunghon can't help but feel a smile come to their lips. Is this what Yanagi found comforting, when she said that it's freeing that she knows they wouldn't mourn her when she goes?

The feel of the tailor's thumbs on their spine is electric, as they struggle for breath once more. "I want to take that first breath. I want to stop suffocating. I want air..." they murmur, in reflection.

"Where... did you first turn to, when you first realised you wished for that?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
Is that the world they escaped from?

A world where people bind others within their noble virtues for the sake of their own self-preservation? Where one's worth is only in the benefit they can offer others?

The words of Wilde's first and last novel hang in the air in the space between that question and Tsumugi Kujaku's answer.

"It's the world I'm still escaping from," they say simply. There's no frown on their lips. No narrowing of their eyes. But there's no smile, either; no twinkle.

"Every day is another day still trapped in it."

Like someone living in another world, as a matter of necessity. After all...

"And every day is another step towards escaping it."

Myunghon wears the scars of their life writ large on their skin. Tsumugi, in contrast, is unblemished, striking, unapproachably pristine.

So what kind of life could leave a mark like that?

Leave a stare so cooled as that...?

That stare fixes on that unknowable distance, until the moment pale fingers swaddled in oversized fabric find their chin. They don't fight the coax of those fingerpads that draw them face-to-face once more with Myunghon; by the time they're gazing upon the rumormonger's loosely-bandaged features, as they offer another glimpse into their own past -- on the day they woke up to their Persona.

And the way they still feel so stalled, despite breaking - even on a symbolic level - the chains that bind them.

"Because you're afraid to take that next step," surmises Tsumugi. "Afraid of embracing that simple truth.

"'In the valley of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.'"

Maybe it ''is'' freeing, in a way. There's no expectations on Tsumugi - none that they profess to, at least, and indeed it seems true on the face of them, their words, their actions. No expectations - just interest. No judgment - just curiosity. Tsumugi will not mourn Yanagi, and so Yanagi does not live in fear of the pain she'll leave behind when she passes.

Tsumugi does not judge Myunghon, and so there is nothing they cannot do that would disappoint in Tsumugi's eyes.

In some ways, it's a liberating, intoxicating feeling.

In others...

There's one of those smiles, those oh-so-rare smiles, touching a shallow touch at the corner of dark lips as Myunghon professes to wanting to draw in that first, great, burning gulp of air. The electricity of Tsumugi's touch rises towards the base of Myunghon's neck.

''Where... did you first turn to, when you first realised you wished for that?''

And then pauses.

There is a moment of silence. Hesitation? No; it's something else. That green stare seems almost searching, for a moment, watching the contours of Myunghon's expression. And then:

"... Someone who betrayed me with their last breath."

Someone who freed them with their betrayal.

"Without them, I would have never opened my eyes. The only value you can be certain of is your own, Myunghon."

''Everything else can only ever exist as much as it benefits you, or wants to benefit from you.''

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It is a surprise, to hear Tsumugi say they are still escaping from that world. In so many other facets they seem so certain about the finality of their escape -- when they speak of the best of all possible worlds, when they appear so... seated, in where they desire to be. To hear them admit it's a work in progress is...

...

Appealing, perhaps. It's an admission of something-- that they work towards, that they don't conceal behind that effortlessness in which they do, on many regards.

But there is pain too. They can see that much, through their one eye, in the way emotion drains from their face.

Their breath is taken away, again, when Tsumugi confides in how they opened their eyes when someone betrayed them with their last breath. That was a difficult thing to confide in. Freedom came at the cost of betrayal. Myunghon has had an inkling of this someone -- a woman -- in Tsumugi's past, but the relation they have to her is still unknown to them... but it is unmistakably one who has an enormous, outsized imprint upon them.

"I only took my first breath through betrayal," they whisper in turn.

The collapse of Frey Pharmaceuticals. The betrayal they made to their own father, who, to this day, employs agents and harrassment to try to rope them back in. Their mother's own desire to manipulate them and shape them to her own ends. All the forces acting upon them, and there they are, adrift as if a leaf on the wind...

"Yet, I wasn't ready," they continue, still searching into those verdant eyes, like they can get lost in them all day.

"I've met people with a much greater sense of self than I," they ruminate. "I still question what it is they have, inside of them, that I do not." That's formed a bunch of the conflict that they have with So-young.

"Making the choice was the first step. But I ignored how much I wasn't ready to adjust how I wanted to live my life," Myunghon reflects. "The third floor of this building is but a reflection of that... it was never a matter of 'want'. Many things here in the Cardboard Dragon, I did because of what another would benefit from..."

A longer pause, as they close their one eye and breathe in, gently.

"But..."

Then they've locked eye again, shifting in their positions on the couch.

"We wouldn't be here, like this, if I didn't reach out and desire it. None of these various times..." Myunghon has a quiet smile. "That time I frightened that man away by sitting on your lap. The reason why that poker table cracked under our weights."

Myunghon rises quietly, still just dressed in their overlong t-shirt and leggings.

"... spirit me from this place, which right now reminds me of my failings."

They put their hands behind their back.

"Take me out on a date, like we were supposed to."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
Parallels.

Unexpected, isn't it, the similarities we find in people who seem at their face, so different? In personality and outlooks, Tsumugi Kujaku and Myunghon Yeo run perpendicular courses: one divorced of all consideration save their own, and the other struggling to define themself outside of others' considerations.

... The life of Tsumugi Kujaku was far from the gilded cage of Myunghon Yeo.

And yet, every now and then, there are beats that resonate.

Awakening in betrayal.

The outsized impacts of others on their lives.

The suffocating nature of family.

And now here they are, delivered to this moment on parallel tracks, one resolved to hold only their own self-interest sacred, and the other living so completely in the service of others. As Myunghon rises, Tsumugi soon follows, the slow stretch of their graceful silhouette up to a full stand a laconic, indulgent thing. It ends with hands tucked smoothly into pockets in a pose fit for some counterculture fashion zine, head tilt at a thirty degree angle and asymmetric locks of raven black spilling loosely towards the side as they watch Myunghon speak on how little their life sense awakening has been dictated by their own wants with all the curiosity of a piqued cat.

A life defined by the needs and desires of others. It's so alien a thing to Tsumugi. 'Self-sacrifice.'

Maybe that's why Myunghon intrigues them. Maybe that's why they need to reach out, and prod.

And what happens, when they see what they want to see? ...

''But...''

That smile returns, placid yet magnetic in the way it sharpens at the corner of Tsumugi's lips.

Myunghon still has that spark inside them, even now. That ember defiantly crackling in the guttered pit. Is it only defined by Tsumugi, or is there something more?

The proprietor of Cardboard Dragon makes their wants known.

''Take me out on a date, like we were supposed to.''

And once they do?

The purveyor of Peacock Silk maneuvers around the couch with graceful, slow, stalking stride. The click of their heels is not nearly as profound here as in Peacock Silk - it never is - and yet it still rings out all the same as if every step is a profound statement.

It's understated yet dramatic at the same time. The way they approach. The way they suddenly drop to one knee in front of Myunghon, like a knight in front of royalty.

The way they offer up one pale hand towards them, with that shallow smile that never quite reaches their eyes still enduring.

It's a dramatic gesture delivered with stoic perfection that couples with their distant tone in such a strangely sublime way as they offer a simple promise:

"If that's what you want, that's what you'll have, Myunghon."

What will happen, when Myunghon Yeo no longer intrigues them?

It's an important question. A question that gets lost in the moment. Within a simple, shared note in their pasts. Within the rush of the present.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring, after all? For today -- for today, there is still so much about Myunghon Yeo that intrigues Tsumugi Kujaku.

And the world of today would still be a less interesting one without them in it.

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-12-13: We Should Try

2025-12-13T22:34:20Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: We Should Try''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, So-young Park *'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' December 13, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 25, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''After rescuing and resuscitating Myunghon from their attempt to leave the mortal coil, So-young and Myunghon try to decompress, to varying degress of limited success. They decide to step away from the Cardboard Dragon for a moment.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myun..."

*'''Log: We Should Try'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[So-young Park]]
*'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' December 13, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 25, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''After rescuing and resuscitating Myunghon from their attempt to leave the mortal coil, So-young and Myunghon try to decompress, to varying degress of limited success. They decide to step away from the Cardboard Dragon for a moment.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Tae Takemi left, and at the very least, the worst has already passed, though... with all that So-young's already done opening the windows and running a fan, it'll probably take quite a while for the Cardboard Dragon, with its sordid late 70's ventilation, to actually air out. Myunghon's found leggings and a skirt and shoes to put on, still wearing that oversize shirt because they're still actively wheezing and short on breath, fire escape door open as they curl up on the wall next to it. It is a little airier, which helps.

They have no idea they have a ninja assassin they're going to have to take care of tonight. In So-young's words: STOP HAVING THINGS HAPPENING

"Um... we could try moving somewhere else for the time being..." Myunghon does suggest slowly, face still cast in an unnatural pallor. "I could call someone else...?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young's still kind of running on adrenaline more than anything else, partly because she's deliberately harnessing that energy to force herself to keep moving and not fall into thought, partly because she has no desire to poison herself from fumes, partly because otherwise she might just yell at Myunghon and she really, honestly, doesn't want to do that right now. Maybe tomorrow, but today gets a pass.

Puffing her cheeks out as she passes Myunghon in her pacing, she puts on an uncertain frown. "... I guess we could... but I'm not sure if we should be leaving this unattended. I already got an earful from the doctor about it, and I'm just imagining Shinjiro bustling in and going 'oh no something must have happened' and crashing inside and-- well." She does her best to keep her tone neutral, frowning as she lowers herself into a half-crouch near Myunghon. "Telling someone might be for the best, but I wasn't about to suggest it. You're going to get a lot of people crowding around you terribly quickly."

That might be the most sensible warning So-young has managed in weeks.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon has a shiver and a somewhat desperate whisper of, "I don't think anyone else should-- should know. It'll be..." they place a hand to her forehead, not knowing they're going to get found by Tsubasa and hurt them. "This isn't the kind of thing that anyone should know... once someone knows, it's all over, it changes everything..." they're really rapidly hyperventilating, which they're finding is incredibly poor when their air intake is constricted.

A despondent sigh, as they thunk their forehead on their knees. They probably shouldn't be turning into a ball with the condition of their lungs, but it's the one position in the world that seems to make them content.

"Besides... you can..." they glance to the side. "You can yell at me. It's fine... I mean..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young remains silent for a moment. She doesn't exactly, uh, mean to let Myunghon hyperventilate on their own, but she's also not really all that medically minded. Besides, she's doing her best to marshal together what she knows of Myunghon and the Cardboard Dragon crew. "And what exactly will it change?" she challenges after a moment, her voice held remarkably steady, or perhaps just blunt.

"They've all raced after you into Mementos to stop the worst from happening once before, and yet they're all still at your beck and call. If I hit the group chat with 'hey, Myunghon's feeling really terrible and run down', do you really think the reply would be 'wow, I'm so disappointed'?"

It takes the conductor about five seconds to realize she's worded that badly, because she hasn't closed off the possibility of Myunghon just replying with 'yes I do', and she's quick to add: "However you're going to answer that, it's probably wrong."

She lets out a breath through her nose, the sigh quiet as she manages to stop pacing. "... don't get me wrong. I'm pretty angry. But I'm not the one with any kind of right to take you to task. Hell, I barely even know half of what you're dealing with at any given moment." And the bits I do know, you don't know that I know, she thinks grimly. There are things she could say to that, but she lets them simmer for the time being instead.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon blinks with that one eye of theirs several times -- it's probably a miracle that it isn't severely irritated and inflamed right now -- before whispering, "I don't know, nuna. I really don't know... it wasn't like this even a few months ago... I have-- we have a ''group chat''. There's-- there's, people, people around, people I don't want to disappoint, people counting on me, sometimes it's easy, Akabane-san just wants Merry present, for instance..."

A pause, as that seems to suggest the obvious to them. They look back at So-young... and it doesn't seem to happen.

The point about how they've all raced after them into Mementos to stop them from doing something foolish does get them to pause, and start choking and sniffling lightly, though. "I know... I understand-- it's simply happening-- too fast, all at once, even back in-- June, I didn't have a quarter of the people in my life I do now... you included."

The wheezing and difficulty processing everything does continue. "Let's, let's... take this someplace else for now. I don't want to be near where I just..." A pause. "I can call Cheolje if I need to. I don't like to, but I can."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young's face is grim at the suggestion of switching to Merry; she doesn't say anything out loud, but there's a relief in her furrowed brow when Myunghon doesn't go through with it, like that would be a notch of escapism too far. "... sure," she allows after a moment. "But 'not wanting to disappoint someone' doesn't mean you have to be perfect. Look at me, how often have I disappointed you?" she smirks all of a sudden, all teeth and self-deprecation. Maybe Myunghon isn't the only one who plays the fool a lot. "Somehow you're still putting up with me and calling me 'nuna'."

"Look, if Umie ever insists she wants to deal with Merry and no-one else, let me and Shinjiro know and we'll dangle her off the rooftop by her ankles," the musician adds with a huff of air. She leaves it at that for now - she's not all that great at coming up with cheesy upbeat reasoning, letting out another breath as she offers her sibling a hand up and a shoulder to lean on. "But I don't think you're giving them enough credit."

The mention of Cheolje makes her wrinkle her nose, which is... a little odd. So-young always talked about him in an upbeat fashion before, but now she's forced to remember that piece of drama waiting for them somewhere down the line. "... fine. But we probably should not bundle you on a train feeling this rough. Let's just find a business hotel or something, or just a bench in a park where there's a breeze."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"It's... it's a bit different," Myunghon still doesn't sound like they're thoroughly content with it. "With you, or Shinobi-ssi, or another adult, but it's different with someone younger... ..." A rather disappointed noise in themself, and they clutch at the side of their face, like the full consequences of what could've been start to sink into them, and not far behind, the admonishing voices of the doctors as their face tears up once more.

"It isn't like that... but..." Myunghon does at least not let Umie down that much. "I don't know how to change myself that rapidly save to just pretend harder, clown harder... it really was easier when it was just a simple magic trick, all of it. Have you had to...?"

A pause, as So-young agrees, and her younger sibling pulls their phone out. "Then should I... or do you want to... sorry."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "Do you really think that? To be quite honest, I think some of those children have enough life experience stored up that they'd give someone twice their age pause," So-young sighs to herself as she shakes her head, pausing to help haul Myunghon up to their feet - not in an unkind manner, but definitely bit more bluntly and matter-of-factly than she really needs to.

"No, I have not," the conductor notes with thinly veiled pride. "But then, I do not take myself so seriously that I feel the need to present an unflinching, unassailable face to everyone. You could simply just not pretend - just be yourself, warts and all, and see just how much things actually change. I rather think it will be a lot less than you're imagining."

"And if someone really did feel disappointed at your true nature, you would be well within your rights to forget about them entirely," So-young adds with a firm and almost proud note, that boundless self-confidence being put to proper work for once. "They would not be worth your, my, or anyone's time."

So saying, she pulls out her phone, flipping it open and buzzing down her shortlist of contacts. She's kind of navigating Myunghon down the fire escape as she lets it right, squinting when it goes to voicemail. "--I realize you may be avoiding us at the moment, Uncle, but your assistance is requested at the Cardboard Dragon. If I call it a 'clean-up operation', will you come any faster?" she asks with some foreboding.

... well, it's not exactly lying...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"And you think that's a good thing?!" Myunghon finds themself yelling, stress briefly bursting out of their mind for a moment. "You think-- you think just because they've seen so much horridness and trauma that they're all stronger and better for it? That they're just hardened and--"

And then So-young's getting them off their feet, so they whimper and wince as their arm and shoulder muscles get pulled in a way that aggravates a lot of pain in a lot of their upper body issues they've never addressed. They do wither away at that advice -- 'just be yourself' -- and then grabs at their shoulder, weakly, a hot flash of anger thoroughly dampened by that state. "... and this, tonight? If I said this was myself? Then? Do you feel disappointed at this 'true nature'?"

There's another withering sigh as they take their phone and tuck it in their pocket to say, "Forget it... I'm going to Auntie Taeyun's. It's not such a long walk I won't be fine even at this hour." They stop to listen as it seems like Cheolje isn't available, which isn't surprising because they sent him off to go save the girls from being sold off by Eiji Kamiya, they think in hindsight.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young winces despite the sudden anger crossing her own features in turn. She didn't mean to be quite that rough with Myunghon, and there's still an apologetic frown crossing her face for a moment even as it clashes with the glint in her eyes. "And when did I say any of that?" she is quick to challenge, her brow furrowed. "It is not a matter of being 'stronger' or 'better' or 'hardened' or 'good'. It is a matter of them being that much closer to understanding how you are feeling, to knowing what you're going through. Far better than I ever could."

She rakes a hand back through her hair, grimacing to herself. She really has no idea how to even navigate this, or be patient enough to say her piece properly in a way that will get through. But backing down seems like it'll just risk Myunghon continuing whatever loop this is, slipping back into the same downwards spiral all the sooner as they continue to break their back for the sake of appearances, and then what comes next?

"Are you expecting me to say that I am? Rather, I'm just glad you've finally decided to yell at me for once," the conductor returns, her mouth drawn into a thin line. "What is there to even be disappointed about? 'Oh no, my sibling is somehow managing to navigate trauma and fear and panic day in day out while also managing to support--" she stops to exaggerately count a full hand's worth of fingers, "--a half dozen displaced youths and both their supernatural drama and their adolescent drama'. I just told you I have no right to take you to task for a moment's weakness, and I meant it."

"--he'll come," she adds curtly with a glance at her phone. Even when she's frustrated over the situation with their Mother, she has that much faith.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon is ultimately an easy person to cow, that anger not really lasting long in their condition as they continue to argue in... the back lot, at this point. This is a perfect opportunity for battle music to start, as the Baestation III hitches for a moment, and then

SIBLING

Erupts in 72 pt. Edo SZ font (bold).

It doesn't happen, though, Myunghon still clutching to So-young's side as she whispers in that erratic, unstable voice of theirs, "Then-- then say that, you're always so-- flippant about it... like you just never... care. That it'll be fine. Everything'll be fine... To me, you're just putting on as much of a face as much as I know. Do you really think it's only because I take myself 'seriously' that I do this?"

They do run out of energy at about this point, though, proverbially bobbing between head surfaced and underwater on the scale of 'is my body deciding I should be crying right now or not'.

What So-young says last is what hurts the most, but they're not quite with it enough to beg her to be a little angrier because the thought of suddenly leaving Tsubasa, and Shinjiro, and other people that they've thrown lifelines to is really shredding them apart.

A car does pull up in short order, however, and Cheolje does step out of the back in that graceful manner of his. "Young master? What on earth..." he starts, before looking at So-young with a quiet nod.

"I'm sorry to pull you away from your current task," Myunghon finds it difficult to put up pretenses at the moment when Cheolje already slipped in his surprise. "Nothing changes outside of this, however."

"The task is... done," Cheolje does clarify, placing his hands behind his back. "We were able to rescue those girls at the locations you provided, and we're providing care for them at present."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "... this is me being serious," So-young admits in what she hopes is a gentler voice. "I may enjoy-- putting on airs, but that doesn't mean everything I'm doing or saying is a joke just because I use twenty words where two will do. See, I'm doing it again," she sighs as she tries to adjust so that she's not sticking an elbow into Myunghon's side or anything.

She tries again, rubbing at her forehead as she feels her head throb. She's fairly sure she didn't catch too much of the fumes, at least, which probably means this is your garden variety headache. "... I firmly believe that no-one in the Cardboard Dragon will abandon you or hate you over this. They will be upset. They will be angry. But that will not be forever, because they think a hell of a lot more of you than that. So when I say 'it will be fine', it's because I mean it."

She's still saying 'they' rather than 'we', and this time she actually notices she's doing it, catching herself for a moment as she frowns. That line about being harder to understand than a demon prickles at her to this day somewhere, it seems, as much as she'd prefer not to dwell on it. "... and maybe that's just blind optimism from someone who hasn't been through what you have. But I can't just deny what I think."

So-young is too mentally exhausted to remember that she's only supposed to know Uncle as their odd-jobbing caretaker and not the right hand man of the Baengnyong, but the idea of Uncle doing some quick courier work for Myunghon isn't entirely outside of the realm of possibility given he looks like he's stepping out of a movie on any given day anyway. Her shoulders sag with relief. "Some good news today, at least," she notes with relish, and then is forced to realize she's not actually all that sure if it's wise to just ask Uncle to bear witness to, well, everything upstairs. "... we had a bit of a fight," she supplies rather lamely.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon doesn't have an immediate answer or an outburst this time, but they do catch the way she says 'they' and doesn't include herself in it. A quiet frown, for a moment, and then they do say, this time, "You're part of the Cardboard Dragon now, as well. You wanted to be included, not excluded like you're not precious enough to be told--" A pause, as they glance towards Cheolje again, and then sighs in turn.

"Perhaps... the comfort of the car might be a better place for the two of you than the alleyway, in the sweltering night," Cheolje first advises. "Even if you aren't settled on a destination, a drive does sometimes clear my mind... I've taken you on many, after all, niece."

Myunghon does pause, perhaps getting a pang of mild jealousy at what these two've shared, even though they're the 'young master' here. That's rich if they say that out loud, though.

"... then take us," Myunghon sounds almost imperious for a moment. "I'm sure you're hungry by now too, nuna..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "... fair point. I will work on that," So-young allows with a sigh and a nod. She can't resist the slight shot back: "So long as you do too," she huffs, but that's more just her stubborn and argumentative streak rearing its head rather than anything more seriously meant.

"I'm kind of coming around to the alley," she notes towards Uncle, and alright, maybe this time she is just being goofy for the hell of it, for something to fill the air with and release some of the tension coiled inside of her. "It's got a nice timbre. Good acoustics. The vending machines are a local hot spot." But she gently nudges Myunghon in the direction of the car, glancing at her watch to double check how late it is.

She really, really does not want to be in this limo come the Dark Hour. Either Cheolje will turn into a coffin or Cheolje will very pointedly not turn into a coffin, and she's absolutely not prepared to deal with either outcome tonight. "... you'd think so, but I don't know that I'm going to have much appetite for a while," she admits plainly. "Still, we should try."

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-12-11: It's No Small Feat

2025-12-12T10:14:30Z

Merilan:

*'''Log: It's No Small Feat'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Shiryuu Ryouhara]], [[Myunghon Yeo]]
*'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' December 11, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 24, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Shiryuu collapses outside of the Cardboard Dragon in a matter of survival after his narrow escape from the club. Myunghon, fresh off their own attempt to escape the mortal coil, finds and treats him.''
*'''CWs''': ''Discussions on suicide

----

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

He almost died, several times.

The smoke, toxic to anyone who breathed it. The steel beams and catwalks, shorn molten and piled atop him like jackstraws. They precluded any effort to wriggle loose no matter how much he paid attention to his escape lessons.

Not to mention the gaping sword hole through his middle. Among other things.

Escape was a matter of desperation. A matter of fast thinking. He had, in certain ways, been prepared for it. He'd been training to trace the contous of the zones, to pay attention to the feeling in his 'eye' with the shift of the ghostly world's heartbeat. To follow where they had left. To find the last vestige of that darkness that consumed his club, somewhere in the curling fire and the snickering laughter of devils. To aim, to lift a beam so that he could see -- and force himself through.

.... but that's not really important right now, is it?

Survival is a matter of degrees. Clawing himself loose of the fire with only one functional hand was an uphill fight. Getting clear of the club before his agents swarmed it was moreso. Shiryuu -- injured so and only a year's shy of a civil war in his clan -- is no fool.

Pigeon-toed steps made on melted soles in shoes with ripped laces, it was impossible to know how far he'd walked. A makeshift binding from his haori and cinched tight with a ratcheting cord to keep from leaving a trail, the silks already turning foul. A hand wrapped in gaffer tape. Holding onto his pack as a struggle. His sword, absent its saya, jammed through the pack entirely and wrapped in a torn sleeve in absence of a proper scabbard. He only needed to make it... a few more miles.

That was when he fell face-first into a brackish puddle, bloodstained hair haphazardly sprayed across the damp, filthy pool in the back alley. One eye frozen blue and bleeding, one eye brown and dim.

A small, cheap flip-phone lays by him, open and shining a pale light on his face. The fingertips of his good hand lay nearby, impotent.

On the screen, the messages app is open. A few numbers, broken coordinates that could either be down the street from the burning club or somewhere in the middle of nowhere in the sea off the coast of Shandong, China. And a single cat emoji. The cat is sad.

At the top of the message window: RMM.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
At some point, in his diminished sense of werewithal, someone is very vainly trying to move him and finding it incredibly difficult given their utter lack of arm strength and the fact that they've got to go up a whole flight of stairs, but it is ''done'' anyway -- especially as a surge of Blue assists them in the matter once they've crossed the threshold and the assassin finds himself spirited away on something more efficient and masterful than some nobody trying to use FLESH and BONE and can instead use MAGIC SILK--

It might be quite a while before Shiryuu wakes up, but by the time he does, it's to the scent of tea and, less favourably, bleach in the background, in the... one could say dismal, but perhaps comforting? second floor of the Cardboard Dragon, which at the very least is Clean unlike the nightmare third floor he's been through. Whoever's been taking care of him has done the needful of doing first aid and emergency stapling of wounds to make sure that Sword Hole doesn't become a cause of death, like they have some experience with sealing sword wounds shut themself.

He finds himself with a lot more bandages and his clothes replaced. They ARE clean, but they might be a far cry from the fashionable threads that he's used to, though he does find his shredded, battered clothes and melted shoes in a reasonably neat -- if bloodied -- pile on the coffee table, along with his sword, which at least has been carefully placed so the blade isn't going to horribly grind against coffee table glass or anything.

His clothes?

Shorts, and an oversize t-shirt of a goofy clown with giant shoes with a sad face and the text:

IT'S NO SMALL FEET, BEING A CLOWN... :(

And across from him? Myunghon Yeo, who looks just about as deathly, face pale and a little blue with the bags under their one eye even more evident and heavy. They, too, have a really lame shirt with an anthromorphic bicycle proclaiming it's TWO-TIRED to go. They have a white skirt and leggings on.

The rumourmonger has a cup of tea in their hand, trembling, and their Cognitive Coat is draped over them like they're certain someone else is going to come finish the job on Shiryuu, so they've been on watch.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

Even fitful, he sleeps like a prince. The young man rests mostly where bidden, though through either illness or sheer wont he doesn't appear to be the type to curl up, even with staples in his middle and a wrapped hand.

Truthfully, the matter of attending to him is as much a mechanical process as it is a physical one. Even absent the obvious logistical effort of moving him, most of the devices on him seemed to be of entirely alien, or warlike purpose. Among the knives, bombs, and papercraft he carries, there is also wires, and a little control surface for operating a synthesizer. The red cord around his middle was some sort of autotourniquet (?) device that needed to be broken to strip the silk from his middle, and it matches one from the emaining sleeve of his haori. It is very, very clear from the context that he's been run through, burned, and cut his hand open on a sword.

Of course, no amount of attention seems to stop his eye from bleeding randomly, weeping from beneath his eyelid, apparently following its own will. At least he doesn't seem to be very sensitive to pain.

The boy, for all of the unhidden pride with which he sleeps does not himself have peace. His brow is set harshly throughout the time, exactly as he was found, and his breathing is slightly faster than the norm. The young man shifts in short, small bursts. Tiny little murmurs, sotto voce, pepper the intensity of his voice. "revenant." "sharper." "faster." "better." "shinigami." "save her." "no!" just a skill issue--" "have to follow him..."

"coward."

"k--!!" His bandaged hand twitches as he flinches. An instant later, the boy snaps awake with a start, borderline startling his clown motif as his eyes shoot open. By this time, both of his eyes are brown again, but one would be given to think his eyes shot fire, the way he behaves, glance snapping around him like a caged animal, his right hand fisted.

It dawns on him a moment later where he's at.

The locked bracelet on his bad hand has opened, spilling a chain-linked line of microblade sections from the bracelet in a circuit to the ground, the tail gleaming where it hasn't been burned. It does no good -- it belongs to an injured hand, clutching the whip lamely.

....The grey-haired boy finally notices Merry, watching him. The whip dangles, impotent and comical for a very, very long and awkward second.

"...um."
Shiryuu, despite all appearances to the contrary, is not accustomed to words by nature.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
The thing about Myunghon is that no matter how involved they are in crime, they still aren't... terribly used to weapons, and this is by design. They don't want to get so desensitised that they're used to a gun, still remembering well the day they took the gun So-young bought on a lark when they were pushed beyond their mental and emotional limits to try to erase someone -- and themself, and had to be coaxed out of a sin they already felt like they'd already committed.

So it's with care that Myunghon puts the various devices down, unsure if they're going to kill them just by virtue of being touched. They're still here, though, so...

''Shinigami.''

There is someone, in that past. A woman. A reason. And... it's clear, what happened to him.

Burns. Sword slashes.

There's one hot topic of a sequence killer in Sumaru that fits the mark. But Shiryuu leaps to attention, drawing a whip that Myunghon can't even BEGIN to pretend they know would've been here -- and it's tiredness that prevents them from having a particularly startled reaction.

"... good morning, Ryouhara-kun," Myunghon says weakly. It's dark, but it must be in the wee hours of the morning. "I took the liberty of putting you back together as best I could," they murmur, voice a little hoarse from how damaged and painful their throat feels.

"I take it that you made good on your promise to summon the Joker Killer," Myunghon remarks fatiguedly, looking to their laptop where -- Shiryuu can see the article on the club fire. Looks like they've pieced some things together too.

"... I have some pear juice, if you'd like."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

To be honest, he hadn't intended on calling them.

Taking care of things himself was his preference, came easily the reasoning. Piecing together what collusion of events must have transpired to end up here -- mercifully, here -- of all places was a matter of observing the evidence. His clothes, Myunghon's -- so stripped of that grandiose whimsy known as Merry -- the haggard draw in their voice, the tremor in their hands. These are details that, once his pupils actually focus enough to tell, he won't miss.

But for the moment, there is unfocused, raw uncertainty, confusion, and awkwardness. For a moment, the shihaisha is not at all the leader to which he is accustomed, gingerly realizing that perhaps cutting down the person responsible for your continued living is not the appropriate response to being greeted. What time is it?

"Uh," he repeats, because it feels better than saying nothing. A bandaged hand mitten-paws helplessly at the flexible microblade of Juurishojin, snapping it back up. A click, a rattle, and a winding retracts the blade into lock, seaming against the metal of what appeared only a few moments ago to be an ornamental bangle.

"....sorry," he apologizes. The first whole thought that entered his mind. He doesn't say what he's apologizing for.

The Joker Killer. Invoking the name seems to drive the young man into a quiet piece of obsession, balling the fabric of his shorts into his one good hand, the tightening fist worrying the out of place khaki tightly. For a time, he is silent, brooding and sullen, until his eyes brighten at the prospect of p--

A wave of nausea hits Shiryuu like a hammer. Suddenly, the boy doubles over, clamping his bad hand over his mouth, stifling a dry heave. "Urrp--!!"

The pain in his middle brings tears to at least one of his eyes.

"Hh-- I'm -- I'll be fine," he assures Yeo. "I need to --" Instead, he turns a quarter, thinking to slide out onto his bare feet, immediately noticing the pile of his effects in the middle distance. Suddenly, that seems to be that -- Shiryuu's made up his mind, and is likely about to fall face-first onto the floor again.

...at least, until he notices Myunghon's ghastly state. Just like before... but now..

"....aa," the shihaisha relents. "I think so." He is very authoritative in his clown shirt and shorts, confirming for Myunghon what may have been obvious. His head dips, gripping onto the one resolve he has, his mouth a thin, pressed, flat line.

"...but you're safe with me. He won't come, not now."

The notion carries more meaning than one, the boy's haphazard mess of hair falling over his eyes briefly. "....what happened here," he asks, finally.

He can intuit some things, but the cast and pallor of Myunghon's voice sticks in his mind.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon allows the grace to let Shiryuu rewind his micro-weapon, thinking, perhaps, what kind of life they would be living if their own personal pipeline to professional murder involved knives, bombs, katana, and microfilament whips, instead of corporate buzzspeak, high-class parties where everyone is smiling but no one is happy and doesn't mean a single word they're saying, and the singular, focused hatred of taking everything away from poor people so that they, as the oh-point-oh oh oh oh oh one percent can be unnoticably richer at the expense of another's life.

To kill someone with Juurishojin, in their mind, must feel better than deleting someone's existence by pressing 'Send' on an e-mail.

"No, no need..." Myunghon does attempt to reassure, before alarm does ring in their eye as they rise at Shiryuu's nausea, getting up and saying, "Don't make any sudden moves for now. I stitched you back together, but you'll need proper treatment. I do know a doctor that won't ask questions." Hello, Tae Takemi, you're now involved with stitching up an assassin back together. Isn't life wonderful?

They hand some pills in a small film canister over. "Painkillers." And water. The good stuff, too. They're about to coax him to not get up, but it seems like Shiryuu's decided something on his own. Myunghon doesn't look particularly more lavish either, the coat clashing bad against their own punny t-shirt.

"I could ask that of yourself... but..."

Myunghon glances to where Shiryuu can follow the trail to where even now, the powerful stench of bleach is accompanied by a whole pile of-- used duct-tape? The pallor brings to mind poisoning, and other more subtle aspects on their body lines up. Bleach is of course already a corrosive, but it doesn't take much to make a poisonous gas even with common goods. The duct tape, also a way to hermetically seal a space with even common goods.

A pause, and as if knowing Shiryuu will intuit it already:

"... you could call it a coward's act. A lot of people do," they admit, suddenly sounding a lot more sorrowful than before. Then they get up to go to the fridge, to bring him that pear juice.

"Here you go, it's on the house."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

There are, not too far from one another, two forms of killings in the room. One are the tools of the contractor, the garrottes, blades and grenades of the cold blooded. Then there are ... just like that send button, far less overt means.

"So... it's you I have to thank for my life," Shiryuu remarks sullenly, accepting the illicit container thoughtfully. A moment of self-evaluation reminds him that being run through is not an easily managed state. A spray of thoughts paint the back of his skull -- and Myunghon can see exactly where the boy hesitates, where he frowns. There is no suspicion, but ...

Almost as if run out of objections before he ever raised them, Shiryuu splits the difference. The lid comes off of the canister, a single pill examined. Swallowed dry, then chased with water, each in one hand. The rest are set aside him. "I owe debt already," when the idea of adoctor is brought up.

Now two dissimilarly brown eyes peek from beneath silver strands, conspiratorially following Myunghon's glance from one method to the other. Ryouhara has, unfortunately, been made all too aware of many of the finer points of ninkou-kagaku. A single bottle of bleach can do a lot of damage even when the means aren't meant. The vicious, acrid scent gets a lot of context in the shadow of that haphazard ball of duct tape.

"...." The boy's eyes narrow suddenly in a stab of shock at that word. There is no hardening of his mien, nor does he respond with the same abject warmth of worry one might ascribe to someone of a modern sensibility. Instead, the young man grows uncommonly distant, letting the subject fade before accepting the bottle of juice from his caretaker. He holds the juice sealed in his right hand, contemplating tersely. A momen's decision, and he nods lightly, pressing the cool surface to his cheek with a long, low sigh unsheathing from his chest.

"..no, it's..."
He starts to say something. Something strong, powerful and brave. Then the boy just doesn't, trailing off. It takes him a long time to start again.

"... when I fought that man," Shiryuu begins, a little lost in the sense of things. "...he said I was a coward as well."

The dmission hurts. There is a morose thread of intensity from the young shihaisha in that moment. Almost as if the word itself hits closer to a guilt than he would like.

A moment, dark and sullen and shadowed, passes in silence. And then the boy adopts a screwed-on smile, a mild uptilt of sudden recognition. He still has the pear juice pressed to his cheek. Yeo will notice it's on the side of his face that was bleeding from the eye earlier.

"Now look at us," the boy points out, cavalier.
"Where did these getups even come from?"
Nobody desses like this for real. Right? ...right??
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It may be a romanticised view, but Myunghon thinks a garrotte, a blade, a grenade is honest -- an act of violence that can't be misconstrued. A detached, cold e-mail of denial, a 'peer review' process that can't be construed as anything but malicious, but all legal -- lauded, even, because the process in which it has been shaped has become so ingrained into the rot in society...

''Am I the only one who kills people? You, you don't use your swords. You kill people with your power, your money. Sometimes you kill them on the pretext of working for their good. It's true they don't bleed. They are in the best of health, but all the same you've killed them. It's hard to say who is a greater sinner, you or me.''

That quote of Akutagawa's rings in Myunghon's head often.

"We can worry about debt and payment when I am certain you will pull through," Myunghon murmurs, not having any of that grandiose vivaciousness when they are wearing the mask of 'Merry'. It's hard to tell whether that makes them more or less human. They think a little, looking at those brown eyes, the way that Shiryuu's eyes bled earlier when they were trying to care for him. The 'blue' eyes that people talked about...

But Shiryuu shares something unexpected. That when he fought Sudou, he called him a coward too.

"Do you know why...?"

Myunghon does notice, the way he presses the coldness against the eye that was bleeding. Worry starts to return to their heart. Shiryuu's eye was clearly injured, but they have no idea how to treat an eye injury. "I can-- call them now. They can be here within the hour," they advise. "And..."

A pause, as they think to do this now before they forget, moving to their shop counter and returning with a key -- and a piece of paper. "A safehouse, some six blocks from here, when we can move you safely. This one is not compromised by the police."

But look at them. Two cowards, with their silly shirts. That sad smile is still on the rumourmonger's face.

"Omoroi Tees dot co dot jp, for 200 yen for a box of forty shirts, when they ran out of business."

Can you withstand it, Shiryuu? The indignity of wearing a t-shirt that cost them FIVE YEN?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

His arm folds over his middle. His injured hand absently fingers the shirt, right where the clown's big comically oversized shoe is making a big comically oversized step. Coincidentally, over the bandages in his middle. No, the painkilers haven't kicked in yet, so it's a bit like teasing a dragon fully intent on eating you whole. Each little touch takes a conscious amount of thought, his fingertips shifting and moving out of sync, as if pulled by strings, as if pulled by an amateur puppeteer. Press. Press. Shiryuu is definitely the type not to leave well enough alone. "I'll survive," he tells Yeo, in no uncertain terms and accompanied by a very instinctive gilded edge of impatience. Like most people his age, he is very quick to dismiss the idea of his own mortality.

A mortality that only hits him a minute or so later.

The vertigo of the mortal coil levels the boy's bubble right back where it was, where it sat, where he's currently missing a significant amount of blood, and can't move from one end of the shop to the other without collapsing. Well. He hasn't tried yet, right?

As if annoyed, the boy does seem like he's testing how the floor feels beneath his bare feet, the ball of one brushing the floor in sullen defiance of being bedridden.

There is a strange pallor to one of the boy's eyes when he looks back at Yeo, at the person behind that Merry. If he weren't so very lacking in a favored side, it would be easy to think that he's blind on one eye, the shade of brown subtly different in one eye from the other. It's nothing he's paying attention to, the press of cool juice against his face more of an absent self-soothing than anything else, an idea that dies with the question posed. He lowers the juice to his lap, and occupies himself with trying to pick the foil under the cap open with failing fingers. It's a serving distraction for him. A reason not to have to look Myung in their eyes anymore.

"....The cops don't have Persona, do they," he remarks, as grudging as he is sullen. Watching Yeo move about, he's seemingly happy to skate entirely past the idea of 'that question'. "I'll... I'll go as needed," he relents. "I'll only be a few days. I need... I need to meditate."

He doesn't explain literally any of that. Instead, he shoots Myunghon a nettled look -- he's wearing what? For how much? It's a welcome distraction. "Mm."

....until it doesn't distract him anymore.

"... it's because ..." Shiryuu starts in complete nonsequitur, his gaze suddenly hard. The very secure juice pays dearly for its insolence. Poke. Pick. Poke. Smack. The shihaisha's mouth sets in a hard, grim line as he focuses entirely on the bottle.

"... I wasn't strong enough."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Another.

Here's another youth who's so quick to dismiss their well-being -- there's so many of those these days, that, in one way or another, society doesn't care about. It might not be so readily evident, but that Shiryuu's clad as an assassin for contract already speaks volumes as to what his childhood isn't, and what his designed purpose in life is, now is it?

But they can't say anything about that without feeling like a hypocrite.

The soft gentleness of Myunghon Yeo is rather a stark contrast, perhaps. Merry is a bombastic figure designed to not be a flesh and blood creature. A designed, purpose-built mask in which they can interface with to the world's woes with aplomb. But Rumourmonger Merry wasn't the one who haphazardly attempted to treat him all night. That isn't their role. For the revolution, Rumourmonger Merry by design must shed blood...

"... the ones who treat me the worst do not, fortunately," Myunghon murmurs, shriveling into themself for even thinking of the violence again. "But there is one that does... and I do daresay he might be quick testing his luck on how long he continues to be a cop."

There's a deep frown as Shiryuu relents on going, however. "I would have you rest now. I will arrange things in the next hour -- it is still only four in the morning, we can still move you under cover of night," they say in no uncertain terms, because they think that Shiryuu's someone who can probably appreciate details.

But Shiryuu shares that the Joker Killer called him a coward because... he wasn't strong enough.

"..."

Myunghon frowns deeper, saying, "We are not strangers to skirmishes with that man by now, Ryouhara-kun, and every single time, he's eluded capture or defeat. That wound you have -- I have a near-identical one on my own torso. This is not... an opponent you defeat alone, and it is not a matter of skill or pride."

That frown creases deeper still. "He has many... dark blessings. Perhaps even ones we still don't know the true form of yet."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

"It's not fair play for the police to have supralunary power," Shiryuu breathes in controlled exasperation, both colors of his eyes flicking about as he looks from left to right, the little saccade stabs of motion gifting him a quietly manic air.

"Give me a list of the ones bothering you, and I'll take care of it." He doesn't even seem to think about it. He's already authorized the breaking of one leg, he will simply give the list to Zakuro.

But the notion dwindles as Shiryuu thinks, his mind latching onto fine details as he rolls on, a cart laden and rolling downhill without stop. "....Iie," he breathes, flatly rejecting the notion, his mouth tight, his lips pressed together. The notion of dark power does not mollify him in the slightest.

"There is 'a power' backing him. But ... I saw. I was right there. I had him. He wasn't moving anymore. I just had to focus. Bankasoujin was in my hand." What? "I could have. There was a way. There had to have been. I just had to do it. I just needed to ..."

The boy's eyes rail against the walls. Coming to grips with the moment is a fast, brutal affair, and the lump in his throat feels like an iron ball. He blinks, hard, and his eyes come back wet, his lips pursed tightly. There is a tiny -pop- and pear juice shoots a full foot or two across the boy's lap as he finally plucks the foil loose of the bottle's mouth. "!"

He drips, quietly.

"...what use am I to her if I can't--" his mouth presses in a dark, annoyed line. The pear juice is now being coddled in his bad hand, the boy raising a single finger of his good hand, as if to pin down his own thoughts.

"It is my station in life to decide," he repeats. It's familiar to him, and there is nary a ghost of the manic energy that existed a moment prior. He's no longer having to choose his words, as if they were something written on the back of his hand. "I won't ask anyone else to endanger themselves if 'my life' is what will solve it."

He roots himself in place, his hand lowering to strangle the life from his juice bottle. He looks down at it, annoyed. Then he offers it back to Merry, suddenly both hands thrusted out.

"Drink," he tells them, in no uncertain terms. "Become strong. I will rest. Take care of your body. As shihaisha, I will tell you now that there won't be any forgiveness if you bring any harms to yourself before I've reached full power and we can talk again under my full authority again."

Pause.

"Also, you are very frugal."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"... no," Myunghon does seem a bit firmer on the topic of giving the names of the cops harrassing them. "I already told someone who offered that I don't wish to become someone who can only be comfortable when I've only condemned all my assa--" the voice hitches a bit, "... all my enemies to death."

A pause, and then they say, "I have a plan... to protect myself and those around me from them, regardless."

But Shiryuu describes the moment. He was there, dead to rights, his weapon in hand. He could've... could he? Now, the account seems more vague. It's unclear, Myunghon thinks, whether he was gripped by a crisis of conscience of some kind, or whether he encountered some other supernatural outcome that he wasn't expecting...

-pop-!

Pear juice is not going to be denied anymore.

Myunghon quietly hands a napkin his way, but then places it beside him instead as he laments on not being of use to 'her'. Myunghon isn't certian whether they should probe. This 'her'...

"Someone quite dear, no doubt..." Someone you need to avenge, comes the other side of that coin, that Myunghon doesn't voice. They want Shiryuu to have a deniable out.

But the next few words have him rising to something more imperious -- as the shihaisha, the one who decides. The Ruler. Myunghon deeply frowns as they don't quite reach for the pear juice yet. "You sound just like him," they murmur, not clarifying on who. "Why do I know so many people who have such a self-sacrificing nature... 'it's all right if it's ''my'' life', they always say..."

A despondent noise. "Don't speak with such authority to me of what I shouldn't do to myself when you've mired yourself in much the same pool of thought," they ruefully murmur -- not quite... angry, but... yes, despondent is the word for it. "I'm certain you think it noble. He does too. But there is something satisfying, deep down, about the fact that you won't have to face all the people concerned about you, isn't there...?"

Their face wrenches, agonised because they're just describing themself. They quietly accept the pear juice. It's going to taste like ashes, but they don't mind. They can share some pear juice.

"It's not a small feat indeed to be a clown..." they whisper.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

It is a measurable self sacrifice to give away pear juice, for the record.

Eyebrows shooting up with quickness, Ryouhara briefly shows a shade of alarm when Myunghon wonders aloud what he was talking about. The response i immediate: the boy's mouth preses shut, his right eye closing, leaving the russet left to fix on the equally-Omoroi dealer. A moment passes, and the young man roughly flings himself back into the couch cushions, with a quiet -paf-.

"I don't know what you're getting at," Shiryuu points out, matter-of-factly. "Just some unfinished business with someone.."

An unspoken concern knits his eyebrows for a moment or two after that, but he seems very eager not to say more on it.

The young man grimaces as he adjusts, lifting both of his arms over the armrest to fold his hands behind his head. The painkillers are starting to kick in; he can do this now without feeling lightheaded. And for a bit, that seems to be the long and short of it, the boy transparent to the rebuke as he makes a good show of evaluating the ceiling.

"...it's not like that," he points out.

"We live our lives in this world with our roles dictated to us by that world. We might think for a time that we're 'someone different' or 'something else entirely,' but in time, we achieve a 'synchronicity' with our ultimate fate and role. Some of us are meant to toil in the dark. And some of us are meant to be beautiful."

A glance, absent, at the curling form of that Cognitive Coat.
"You're probably one of the ones meant to be beautiful, I think."

"Anyway." Shiryuu's eyes return up ahead to the ceiling above, letting Myunghon drink. "Self sacrifice is something different than nobility... it's the same for your person, too, I bet. It is a choice. Not.. noble. If they had the opportunity to see 'that person' again..."

Shiryuu drifts off into uncomfortable silence, the former sureness of the shihaisha fading away. He breathes out.

..... "Honk," he remarks, defeated.
The shihaisha smirks, suddenly wry and mischievious. A whip-lean smile edges his lips in sharp white. Satisfaction is a heady drug.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-12-11: It's No Small Feat

2025-12-12T10:13:50Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: It's No Small Feat''' *'''Cast:''' Shiryuu Ryouhara, Myunghon Yeo *'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' December 11, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 24, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Shiryuu collapses outside of the Cardboard Dragon in a matter of survival after his narrow escape from the club. Myunghon, fresh off their own attempt to escape the mortal coil, finds and treats him.'' *'''CWs''': ''Discussions on suicide ---- <Pose Tracke..."

*'''Log: It's No Small Feat'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Shiryuu Ryouhara]], [[Myunghon Yeo]]
*'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' December 11, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 24, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Shiryuu collapses outside of the Cardboard Dragon in a matter of survival after his narrow escape from the club. Myunghon, fresh off their own attempt to escape the mortal coil, finds and treats him.''
*'''CWs''': ''Discussions on suicide

----

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

He almost died, several times.

The smoke, toxic to anyone who breathed it. The steel beams and catwalks, shorn molten and piled atop him like jackstraws. They precluded any effort to wriggle loose no matter how much he paid attention to his escape lessons.

Not to mention the gaping sword hole through his middle. Among other things.

Escape was a matter of desperation. A matter of fast thinking. He had, in certain ways, been prepared for it. He'd been training to trace the contous of the zones, to pay attention to the feeling in his 'eye' with the shift of the ghostly world's heartbeat. To follow where they had left. To find the last vestige of that darkness that consumed his club, somewhere in the curling fire and the snickering laughter of devils. To aim, to lift a beam so that he could see -- and force himself through.

.... but that's not really important right now, is it?

Survival is a matter of degrees. Clawing himself loose of the fire with only one functional hand was an uphill fight. Getting clear of the club before his agents swarmed it was moreso. Shiryuu -- injured so and only a year's shy of a civil war in his clan -- is no fool.

Pigeon-toed steps made on melted soles in shoes with ripped laces, it was impossible to know how far he'd walked. A makeshift binding from his haori and cinched tight with a ratcheting cord to keep from leaving a trail, the silks already turning foul. A hand wrapped in gaffer tape. Holding onto his pack as a struggle. His sword, absent its saya, jammed through the pack entirely and wrapped in a torn sleeve in absence of a proper scabbard. He only needed to make it... a few more miles.

That was when he fell face-first into a brackish puddle, bloodstained hair haphazardly sprayed across the damp, filthy pool in the back alley. One eye frozen blue and bleeding, one eye brown and dim.

A small, cheap flip-phone lays by him, open and shining a pale light on his face. The fingertips of his good hand lay nearby, impotent.

On the screen, the messages app is open. A few numbers, broken coordinates that could either be down the street from the burning club or somewhere in the middle of nowhere in the sea off the coast of Shandong, China. And a single cat emoji. The cat is sad.

At the top of the message window: RMM.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
At some point, in his diminished sense of werewithal, someone is very vainly trying to move him and finding it incredibly difficult given their utter lack of arm strength and the fact that they've got to go up a whole flight of stairs, but it is ''done'' anyway -- especially as a surge of Blue assists them in the matter once they've crossed the threshold and the assassin finds himself spirited away on something more efficient and masterful than some nobody trying to use FLESH and BONE and can instead use MAGIC SILK--

It might be quite a while before Shiryuu wakes up, but by the time he does, it's to the scent of tea and, less favourably, bleach in the background, in the... one could say dismal, but perhaps comforting? second floor of the Cardboard Dragon, which at the very least is Clean unlike the nightmare third floor he's been through. Whoever's been taking care of him has done the needful of doing first aid and emergency stapling of wounds to make sure that Sword Hole doesn't become a cause of death, like they have some experience with sealing sword wounds shut themself.

He finds himself with a lot more bandages and his clothes replaced. They ARE clean, but they might be a far cry from the fashionable threads that he's used to, though he does find his shredded, battered clothes and melted shoes in a reasonably neat -- if bloodied -- pile on the coffee table, along with his sword, which at least has been carefully placed so the blade isn't going to horribly grind against coffee table glass or anything.

His clothes?

Shorts, and an oversize t-shirt of a goofy clown with giant shoes with a sad face and the text:

IT'S NO SMALL FEET, BEING A CLOWN... :(

And across from him? Myunghon Yeo, who looks just about as deathly, face pale and a little blue with the bags under their one eye even more evident and heavy. They, too, have a really lame shirt with an anthromorphic bicycle proclaiming it's TWO-TIRED to go. They have a white skirt and leggings on.

The rumourmonger has a cup of tea in their hand, trembling, and their Cognitive Coat is draped over them like they're certain someone else is going to come finish the job on Shiryuu, so they've been on watch.
+ooc i made assumptions but lemme know if that doesn't work
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

Even fitful, he sleeps like a prince. The young man rests mostly where bidden, though through either illness or sheer wont he doesn't appear to be the type to curl up, even with staples in his middle and a wrapped hand.

Truthfully, the matter of attending to him is as much a mechanical process as it is a physical one. Even absent the obvious logistical effort of moving him, most of the devices on him seemed to be of entirely alien, or warlike purpose. Among the knives, bombs, and papercraft he carries, there is also wires, and a little control surface for operating a synthesizer. The red cord around his middle was some sort of autotourniquet (?) device that needed to be broken to strip the silk from his middle, and it matches one from the emaining sleeve of his haori. It is very, very clear from the context that he's been run through, burned, and cut his hand open on a sword.

Of course, no amount of attention seems to stop his eye from bleeding randomly, weeping from beneath his eyelid, apparently following its own will. At least he doesn't seem to be very sensitive to pain.

The boy, for all of the unhidden pride with which he sleeps does not himself have peace. His brow is set harshly throughout the time, exactly as he was found, and his breathing is slightly faster than the norm. The young man shifts in short, small bursts. Tiny little murmurs, sotto voce, pepper the intensity of his voice. "revenant." "sharper." "faster." "better." "shinigami." "save her." "no!" just a skill issue--" "have to follow him..."

"coward."

"k--!!" His bandaged hand twitches as he flinches. An instant later, the boy snaps awake with a start, borderline startling his clown motif as his eyes shoot open. By this time, both of his eyes are brown again, but one would be given to think his eyes shot fire, the way he behaves, glance snapping around him like a caged animal, his right hand fisted.

It dawns on him a moment later where he's at.

The locked bracelet on his bad hand has opened, spilling a chain-linked line of microblade sections from the bracelet in a circuit to the ground, the tail gleaming where it hasn't been burned. It does no good -- it belongs to an injured hand, clutching the whip lamely.

....The grey-haired boy finally notices Merry, watching him. The whip dangles, impotent and comical for a very, very long and awkward second.

"...um."
Shiryuu, despite all appearances to the contrary, is not accustomed to words by nature.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
The thing about Myunghon is that no matter how involved they are in crime, they still aren't... terribly used to weapons, and this is by design. They don't want to get so desensitised that they're used to a gun, still remembering well the day they took the gun So-young bought on a lark when they were pushed beyond their mental and emotional limits to try to erase someone -- and themself, and had to be coaxed out of a sin they already felt like they'd already committed.

So it's with care that Myunghon puts the various devices down, unsure if they're going to kill them just by virtue of being touched. They're still here, though, so...

''Shinigami.''

There is someone, in that past. A woman. A reason. And... it's clear, what happened to him.

Burns. Sword slashes.

There's one hot topic of a sequence killer in Sumaru that fits the mark. But Shiryuu leaps to attention, drawing a whip that Myunghon can't even BEGIN to pretend they know would've been here -- and it's tiredness that prevents them from having a particularly startled reaction.

"... good morning, Ryouhara-kun," Myunghon says weakly. It's dark, but it must be in the wee hours of the morning. "I took the liberty of putting you back together as best I could," they murmur, voice a little hoarse from how damaged and painful their throat feels.

"I take it that you made good on your promise to summon the Joker Killer," Myunghon remarks fatiguedly, looking to their laptop where -- Shiryuu can see the article on the club fire. Looks like they've pieced some things together too.

"... I have some pear juice, if you'd like."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

To be honest, he hadn't intended on calling them.

Taking care of things himself was his preference, came easily the reasoning. Piecing together what collusion of events must have transpired to end up here -- mercifully, here -- of all places was a matter of observing the evidence. His clothes, Myunghon's -- so stripped of that grandiose whimsy known as Merry -- the haggard draw in their voice, the tremor in their hands. These are details that, once his pupils actually focus enough to tell, he won't miss.

But for the moment, there is unfocused, raw uncertainty, confusion, and awkwardness. For a moment, the shihaisha is not at all the leader to which he is accustomed, gingerly realizing that perhaps cutting down the person responsible for your continued living is not the appropriate response to being greeted. What time is it?

"Uh," he repeats, because it feels better than saying nothing. A bandaged hand mitten-paws helplessly at the flexible microblade of Juurishojin, snapping it back up. A click, a rattle, and a winding retracts the blade into lock, seaming against the metal of what appeared only a few moments ago to be an ornamental bangle.

"....sorry," he apologizes. The first whole thought that entered his mind. He doesn't say what he's apologizing for.

The Joker Killer. Invoking the name seems to drive the young man into a quiet piece of obsession, balling the fabric of his shorts into his one good hand, the tightening fist worrying the out of place khaki tightly. For a time, he is silent, brooding and sullen, until his eyes brighten at the prospect of p--

A wave of nausea hits Shiryuu like a hammer. Suddenly, the boy doubles over, clamping his bad hand over his mouth, stifling a dry heave. "Urrp--!!"

The pain in his middle brings tears to at least one of his eyes.

"Hh-- I'm -- I'll be fine," he assures Yeo. "I need to --" Instead, he turns a quarter, thinking to slide out onto his bare feet, immediately noticing the pile of his effects in the middle distance. Suddenly, that seems to be that -- Shiryuu's made up his mind, and is likely about to fall face-first onto the floor again.

...at least, until he notices Myunghon's ghastly state. Just like before... but now..

"....aa," the shihaisha relents. "I think so." He is very authoritative in his clown shirt and shorts, confirming for Myunghon what may have been obvious. His head dips, gripping onto the one resolve he has, his mouth a thin, pressed, flat line.

"...but you're safe with me. He won't come, not now."

The notion carries more meaning than one, the boy's haphazard mess of hair falling over his eyes briefly. "....what happened here," he asks, finally.

He can intuit some things, but the cast and pallor of Myunghon's voice sticks in his mind.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon allows the grace to let Shiryuu rewind his micro-weapon, thinking, perhaps, what kind of life they would be living if their own personal pipeline to professional murder involved knives, bombs, katana, and microfilament whips, instead of corporate buzzspeak, high-class parties where everyone is smiling but no one is happy and doesn't mean a single word they're saying, and the singular, focused hatred of taking everything away from poor people so that they, as the oh-point-oh oh oh oh oh one percent can be unnoticably richer at the expense of another's life.

To kill someone with Juurishojin, in their mind, must feel better than deleting someone's existence by pressing 'Send' on an e-mail.

"No, no need..." Myunghon does attempt to reassure, before alarm does ring in their eye as they rise at Shiryuu's nausea, getting up and saying, "Don't make any sudden moves for now. I stitched you back together, but you'll need proper treatment. I do know a doctor that won't ask questions." Hello, Tae Takemi, you're now involved with stitching up an assassin back together. Isn't life wonderful?

They hand some pills in a small film canister over. "Painkillers." And water. The good stuff, too. They're about to coax him to not get up, but it seems like Shiryuu's decided something on his own. Myunghon doesn't look particularly more lavish either, the coat clashing bad against their own punny t-shirt.

"I could ask that of yourself... but..."

Myunghon glances to where Shiryuu can follow the trail to where even now, the powerful stench of bleach is accompanied by a whole pile of-- used duct-tape? The pallor brings to mind poisoning, and other more subtle aspects on their body lines up. Bleach is of course already a corrosive, but it doesn't take much to make a poisonous gas even with common goods. The duct tape, also a way to hermetically seal a space with even common goods.

A pause, and as if knowing Shiryuu will intuit it already:

"... you could call it a coward's act. A lot of people do," they admit, suddenly sounding a lot more sorrowful than before. Then they get up to go to the fridge, to bring him that pear juice.

"Here you go, it's on the house."
+ooc i think i got an hour and it's ok it's with L i'll ask to emit and use a different room and alt
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

There are, not too far from one another, two forms of killings in the room. One are the tools of the contractor, the garrottes, blades and grenades of the cold blooded. Then there are ... just like that send button, far less overt means.

"So... it's you I have to thank for my life," Shiryuu remarks sullenly, accepting the illicit container thoughtfully. A moment of self-evaluation reminds him that being run through is not an easily managed state. A spray of thoughts paint the back of his skull -- and Myunghon can see exactly where the boy hesitates, where he frowns. There is no suspicion, but ...

Almost as if run out of objections before he ever raised them, Shiryuu splits the difference. The lid comes off of the canister, a single pill examined. Swallowed dry, then chased with water, each in one hand. The rest are set aside him. "I owe debt already," when the idea of adoctor is brought up.

Now two dissimilarly brown eyes peek from beneath silver strands, conspiratorially following Myunghon's glance from one method to the other. Ryouhara has, unfortunately, been made all too aware of many of the finer points of ninkou-kagaku. A single bottle of bleach can do a lot of damage even when the means aren't meant. The vicious, acrid scent gets a lot of context in the shadow of that haphazard ball of duct tape.

"...." The boy's eyes narrow suddenly in a stab of shock at that word. There is no hardening of his mien, nor does he respond with the same abject warmth of worry one might ascribe to someone of a modern sensibility. Instead, the young man grows uncommonly distant, letting the subject fade before accepting the bottle of juice from his caretaker. He holds the juice sealed in his right hand, contemplating tersely. A momen's decision, and he nods lightly, pressing the cool surface to his cheek with a long, low sigh unsheathing from his chest.

"..no, it's..."
He starts to say something. Something strong, powerful and brave. Then the boy just doesn't, trailing off. It takes him a long time to start again.

"... when I fought that man," Shiryuu begins, a little lost in the sense of things. "...he said I was a coward as well."

The dmission hurts. There is a morose thread of intensity from the young shihaisha in that moment. Almost as if the word itself hits closer to a guilt than he would like.

A moment, dark and sullen and shadowed, passes in silence. And then the boy adopts a screwed-on smile, a mild uptilt of sudden recognition. He still has the pear juice pressed to his cheek. Yeo will notice it's on the side of his face that was bleeding from the eye earlier.

"Now look at us," the boy points out, cavalier.
"Where did these getups even come from?"
Nobody desses like this for real. Right? ...right??
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It may be a romanticised view, but Myunghon thinks a garrotte, a blade, a grenade is honest -- an act of violence that can't be misconstrued. A detached, cold e-mail of denial, a 'peer review' process that can't be construed as anything but malicious, but all legal -- lauded, even, because the process in which it has been shaped has become so ingrained into the rot in society...

''Am I the only one who kills people? You, you don't use your swords. You kill people with your power, your money. Sometimes you kill them on the pretext of working for their good. It's true they don't bleed. They are in the best of health, but all the same you've killed them. It's hard to say who is a greater sinner, you or me.''

That quote of Akutagawa's rings in Myunghon's head often.

"We can worry about debt and payment when I am certain you will pull through," Myunghon murmurs, not having any of that grandiose vivaciousness when they are wearing the mask of 'Merry'. It's hard to tell whether that makes them more or less human. They think a little, looking at those brown eyes, the way that Shiryuu's eyes bled earlier when they were trying to care for him. The 'blue' eyes that people talked about...

But Shiryuu shares something unexpected. That when he fought Sudou, he called him a coward too.

"Do you know why...?"

Myunghon does notice, the way he presses the coldness against the eye that was bleeding. Worry starts to return to their heart. Shiryuu's eye was clearly injured, but they have no idea how to treat an eye injury. "I can-- call them now. They can be here within the hour," they advise. "And..."

A pause, as they think to do this now before they forget, moving to their shop counter and returning with a key -- and a piece of paper. "A safehouse, some six blocks from here, when we can move you safely. This one is not compromised by the police."

But look at them. Two cowards, with their silly shirts. That sad smile is still on the rumourmonger's face.

"Omoroi Tees dot co dot jp, for 200 yen for a box of forty shirts, when they ran out of business."

Can you withstand it, Shiryuu? The indignity of wearing a t-shirt that cost them FIVE YEN?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

His arm folds over his middle. His injured hand absently fingers the shirt, right where the clown's big comically oversized shoe is making a big comically oversized step. Coincidentally, over the bandages in his middle. No, the painkilers haven't kicked in yet, so it's a bit like teasing a dragon fully intent on eating you whole. Each little touch takes a conscious amount of thought, his fingertips shifting and moving out of sync, as if pulled by strings, as if pulled by an amateur puppeteer. Press. Press. Shiryuu is definitely the type not to leave well enough alone. "I'll survive," he tells Yeo, in no uncertain terms and accompanied by a very instinctive gilded edge of impatience. Like most people his age, he is very quick to dismiss the idea of his own mortality.

A mortality that only hits him a minute or so later.

The vertigo of the mortal coil levels the boy's bubble right back where it was, where it sat, where he's currently missing a significant amount of blood, and can't move from one end of the shop to the other without collapsing. Well. He hasn't tried yet, right?

As if annoyed, the boy does seem like he's testing how the floor feels beneath his bare feet, the ball of one brushing the floor in sullen defiance of being bedridden.

There is a strange pallor to one of the boy's eyes when he looks back at Yeo, at the person behind that Merry. If he weren't so very lacking in a favored side, it would be easy to think that he's blind on one eye, the shade of brown subtly different in one eye from the other. It's nothing he's paying attention to, the press of cool juice against his face more of an absent self-soothing than anything else, an idea that dies with the question posed. He lowers the juice to his lap, and occupies himself with trying to pick the foil under the cap open with failing fingers. It's a serving distraction for him. A reason not to have to look Myung in their eyes anymore.

"....The cops don't have Persona, do they," he remarks, as grudging as he is sullen. Watching Yeo move about, he's seemingly happy to skate entirely past the idea of 'that question'. "I'll... I'll go as needed," he relents. "I'll only be a few days. I need... I need to meditate."

He doesn't explain literally any of that. Instead, he shoots Myunghon a nettled look -- he's wearing what? For how much? It's a welcome distraction. "Mm."

....until it doesn't distract him anymore.

"... it's because ..." Shiryuu starts in complete nonsequitur, his gaze suddenly hard. The very secure juice pays dearly for its insolence. Poke. Pick. Poke. Smack. The shihaisha's mouth sets in a hard, grim line as he focuses entirely on the bottle.

"... I wasn't strong enough."
��@emit %r%tAnother.%r%r%tHere's another youth who's so quick to dismiss their well-being -- there's so many of those these days, that, in one way or another, society doesn't care about. It might not be so readily evident, but that Shiryuu's clad as an assassin for contract already speaks volumes as to what his childhood isn't, and what his designed purpose in life is, now is it?%r%r%tBut they can't say anything about that without feeling like a hypocrite.%r%r%tThe soft gentleness of Myunghon Yeo is rather a stark contrast, perhaps. Merry is a bombastic figure designed to not be a flesh and blood creature. A designed, purpose-built mask in which they can interface with to the world's woes with aplomb. But Rumourmonger Merry wasn't the one who haphazardly attempted to treat him all night. That isn't their role. For the revolution, Rumourmonger Merry by design must shed blood...%r%r%t"... the ones who treat me the worst do not, fortunately," Myunghon murmurs, shriveling into themself for even thinking of the violence again. "But there is one that does... and I do daresay he might be quick testing his luck on how long he continues to be a cop."%r%r%tThere's a deep frown as Shiryuu relents on going, however. "I would have you rest now. I will arrange things in the next hour -- it is still only four in the morning, we can still move you under cover of night," they say in no uncertain terms, because they think that Shiryuu's someone who can probably appreciate details. %r%r%tBut Shiryuu shares that the Joker Killer called him a coward because... he wasn't strong enough.%r%r%t"..."%r%r%tMyunghon frowns deeper, saying, "We are not strangers to skirmishes with that man by now, Ryouhara-kun, and every single time, he's eluded capture or defeat. That wound you have -- I have a near-identical one on my own torso. This is not... an opponent you defeat alone, and it is not a matter of skill or pride."%r%r%tThat frown creases deeper still. "He has many... dark blessings. Perhaps even ones we still don't know the true form of yet."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Another.

Here's another youth who's so quick to dismiss their well-being -- there's so many of those these days, that, in one way or another, society doesn't care about. It might not be so readily evident, but that Shiryuu's clad as an assassin for contract already speaks volumes as to what his childhood isn't, and what his designed purpose in life is, now is it?

But they can't say anything about that without feeling like a hypocrite.

The soft gentleness of Myunghon Yeo is rather a stark contrast, perhaps. Merry is a bombastic figure designed to not be a flesh and blood creature. A designed, purpose-built mask in which they can interface with to the world's woes with aplomb. But Rumourmonger Merry wasn't the one who haphazardly attempted to treat him all night. That isn't their role. For the revolution, Rumourmonger Merry by design must shed blood...

"... the ones who treat me the worst do not, fortunately," Myunghon murmurs, shriveling into themself for even thinking of the violence again. "But there is one that does... and I do daresay he might be quick testing his luck on how long he continues to be a cop."

There's a deep frown as Shiryuu relents on going, however. "I would have you rest now. I will arrange things in the next hour -- it is still only four in the morning, we can still move you under cover of night," they say in no uncertain terms, because they think that Shiryuu's someone who can probably appreciate details.

But Shiryuu shares that the Joker Killer called him a coward because... he wasn't strong enough.

"..."

Myunghon frowns deeper, saying, "We are not strangers to skirmishes with that man by now, Ryouhara-kun, and every single time, he's eluded capture or defeat. That wound you have -- I have a near-identical one on my own torso. This is not... an opponent you defeat alone, and it is not a matter of skill or pride."

That frown creases deeper still. "He has many... dark blessings. Perhaps even ones we still don't know the true form of yet."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

"It's not fair play for the police to have supralunary power," Shiryuu breathes in controlled exasperation, both colors of his eyes flicking about as he looks from left to right, the little saccade stabs of motion gifting him a quietly manic air.

"Give me a list of the ones bothering you, and I'll take care of it." He doesn't even seem to think about it. He's already authorized the breaking of one leg, he will simply give the list to Zakuro.

But the notion dwindles as Shiryuu thinks, his mind latching onto fine details as he rolls on, a cart laden and rolling downhill without stop. "....Iie," he breathes, flatly rejecting the notion, his mouth tight, his lips pressed together. The notion of dark power does not mollify him in the slightest.

"There is 'a power' backing him. But ... I saw. I was right there. I had him. He wasn't moving anymore. I just had to focus. Bankasoujin was in my hand." What? "I could have. There was a way. There had to have been. I just had to do it. I just needed to ..."

The boy's eyes rail against the walls. Coming to grips with the moment is a fast, brutal affair, and the lump in his throat feels like an iron ball. He blinks, hard, and his eyes come back wet, his lips pursed tightly. There is a tiny -pop- and pear juice shoots a full foot or two across the boy's lap as he finally plucks the foil loose of the bottle's mouth. "!"

He drips, quietly.

"...what use am I to her if I can't--" his mouth presses in a dark, annoyed line. The pear juice is now being coddled in his bad hand, the boy raising a single finger of his good hand, as if to pin down his own thoughts.

"It is my station in life to decide," he repeats. It's familiar to him, and there is nary a ghost of the manic energy that existed a moment prior. He's no longer having to choose his words, as if they were something written on the back of his hand. "I won't ask anyone else to endanger themselves if 'my life' is what will solve it."

He roots himself in place, his hand lowering to strangle the life from his juice bottle. He looks down at it, annoyed. Then he offers it back to Merry, suddenly both hands thrusted out.

"Drink," he tells them, in no uncertain terms. "Become strong. I will rest. Take care of your body. As shihaisha, I will tell you now that there won't be any forgiveness if you bring any harms to yourself before I've reached full power and we can talk again under my full authority again."

Pause.

"Also, you are very frugal."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"... no," Myunghon does seem a bit firmer on the topic of giving the names of the cops harrassing them. "I already told someone who offered that I don't wish to become someone who can only be comfortable when I've only condemned all my assa--" the voice hitches a bit, "... all my enemies to death."

A pause, and then they say, "I have a plan... to protect myself and those around me from them, regardless."

But Shiryuu describes the moment. He was there, dead to rights, his weapon in hand. He could've... could he? Now, the account seems more vague. It's unclear, Myunghon thinks, whether he was gripped by a crisis of conscience of some kind, or whether he encountered some other supernatural outcome that he wasn't expecting...

-pop-!

Pear juice is not going to be denied anymore.

Myunghon quietly hands a napkin his way, but then places it beside him instead as he laments on not being of use to 'her'. Myunghon isn't certian whether they should probe. This 'her'...

"Someone quite dear, no doubt..." Someone you need to avenge, comes the other side of that coin, that Myunghon doesn't voice. They want Shiryuu to have a deniable out.

But the next few words have him rising to something more imperious -- as the shihaisha, the one who decides. The Ruler. Myunghon deeply frowns as they don't quite reach for the pear juice yet. "You sound just like him," they murmur, not clarifying on who. "Why do I know so many people who have such a self-sacrificing nature... 'it's all right if it's ''my'' life', they always say..."

A despondent noise. "Don't speak with such authority to me of what I shouldn't do to myself when you've mired yourself in much the same pool of thought," they ruefully murmur -- not quite... angry, but... yes, despondent is the word for it. "I'm certain you think it noble. He does too. But there is something satisfying, deep down, about the fact that you won't have to face all the people concerned about you, isn't there...?"

Their face wrenches, agonised because they're just describing themself. They quietly accept the pear juice. It's going to taste like ashes, but they don't mind. They can share some pear juice.

"It's not a small feat indeed to be a clown..." they whisper.
+ooc in one masterstroke i've tied the stupid shirt to be sad now
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>

It is a measurable self sacrifice to give away pear juice, for the record.

Eyebrows shooting up with quickness, Ryouhara briefly shows a shade of alarm when Myunghon wonders aloud what he was talking about. The response i immediate: the boy's mouth preses shut, his right eye closing, leaving the russet left to fix on the equally-Omoroi dealer. A moment passes, and the young man roughly flings himself back into the couch cushions, with a quiet -paf-.

"I don't know what you're getting at," Shiryuu points out, matter-of-factly. "Just some unfinished business with someone.."

An unspoken concern knits his eyebrows for a moment or two after that, but he seems very eager not to say more on it.

The young man grimaces as he adjusts, lifting both of his arms over the armrest to fold his hands behind his head. The painkillers are starting to kick in; he can do this now without feeling lightheaded. And for a bit, that seems to be the long and short of it, the boy transparent to the rebuke as he makes a good show of evaluating the ceiling.

"...it's not like that," he points out.

"We live our lives in this world with our roles dictated to us by that world. We might think for a time that we're 'someone different' or 'something else entirely,' but in time, we achieve a 'synchronicity' with our ultimate fate and role. Some of us are meant to toil in the dark. And some of us are meant to be beautiful."

A glance, absent, at the curling form of that Cognitive Coat.
"You're probably one of the ones meant to be beautiful, I think."

"Anyway." Shiryuu's eyes return up ahead to the ceiling above, letting Myunghon drink. "Self sacrifice is something different than nobility... it's the same for your person, too, I bet. It is a choice. Not.. noble. If they had the opportunity to see 'that person' again..."

Shiryuu drifts off into uncomfortable silence, the former sureness of the shihaisha fading away. He breathes out.

..... "Honk," he remarks, defeated.
The shihaisha smirks, suddenly wry and mischievious. A whip-lean smile edges his lips in sharp white. Satisfaction is a heady drug.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-12-10: Miracle Cleaning Experiment

2025-12-11T05:17:25Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: Miracle Cleaning Experiment''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, So-young Park, Tae Takemi *'''Where:''' Hirasaka Ward, Cardoard Dragon *'''OOC Date:''' December 10, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 23, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''So-young alights on the Cardboard Dragon while Myunghon is in the middle of unadvised experiments with bleach. She calls Tae Takemi in short order.'' *'''Content Warnings''': ''Suicide attempt, suicidal ideation'' ---- <Pose Tracker>..."

*'''Log: Miracle Cleaning Experiment'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[So-young Park]], [[Tae Takemi]]
*'''Where:''' Hirasaka Ward, Cardoard Dragon
*'''OOC Date:''' December 10, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 23, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''So-young alights on the Cardboard Dragon while Myunghon is in the middle of unadvised experiments with bleach. She calls Tae Takemi in short order.''
*'''Content Warnings''': ''Suicide attempt, suicidal ideation''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It's a late Thursday evening by the time So-young comes to the Cardboard Dragon, and for once she finds the shop... entirely empty? And yet unlocked. Myunghon's belongings are still scattered around all over the living room. Laptop, coat... it's like they just stepped out suddenly for a moment. At least, that seems to be the first reasonable assumption -- but if So-young ends up calling, Myunghon's weak voice comes from...

The bathroom?

"Oh... nuna, is that you?" they call out slowly.

Something reeks ''terribly'' badly -- of bleach, even from the other end. There's a weird RIPPING sound -- is that... tape? that goes on for a bit, and it takes minutes before the sounds stop.

"Um... step away a bit, nuna."

Myunghon opens the door, and the stench gets even worse as they tumble on out, wearing only an unbuttoned white shirt with their bandages barely fixed on and their dress pants, collapsing onto their side with bleach oozing out every which way behind them.

"My Miracle Cleaning Experiment was a partial success, nuna," they try to cheerfully say, before holding up their phone to say, "Could you call Tae Takemi here."

Then they go out cold, face pale and clammy, blue in parts, even.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young is pretty used to just making her way into the Cardboard Dragon at this point, whether locked or unlocked, vacant or busy. There are usually enough people around that it doesn't take that long for someone else to come in from wherever they popped out to, or Myunghon will appear from upstairs, or any number of other possibilities. So at first she doesn't think anything of it, until the smell of bleach filters through, much stronger than normal.

"... Myunghon?" she asks cautiously in response to the initial call, using it to echolocate her way towards the bathroom. Her eyebrows raise as she steps in the direction of the bathroom, then they raise again when there's no answer, and again when there's _still_ no answer. Without context she's not all that willing and ready to just hammer her way into the bathroom... but the rare spike of anxiety is growing larger in her chest, so when Myunghon asks her to step back, there's really only one way she can reply.

"Yeah, fuck that. What happened? What's wrong?" she rapid-fires urgently, stepping to push the bathroom door open instead. This costs her immediately as she gets blasted in the face with remarkably strong fumes, her arm going up to cover the lower half of her face as she lets out a couple of stunned coughs and squints at Myunghon over the top of her wrist.

She takes the phone automatically, her brain still catching up. "What the hell do you mean, Miracle Cleaning--" she starts to say, a distinct suspicion creeping into her voice - she doesn't get to finish the question, not out loud, because instead Myunghon has simply slumped, and not in the artful goofy way but in a way that propels So-young's heart so high into her throat she can taste bile.

Swearing under her breath, she immediately lunges down for the phone, and then further to haul Myunghon out of the puddle and over towards the couch, trying to prevent the phone from locking again at the same time as she tries to prevent Myunghon lying in a corrosive substance. The end position is a bit ungainly, but it's enough for her to look for any sign of what the hell happened as she slams through Myunghon's contacts and hits dial.

"Is this Tae Takemi? Myunghon Yeo, Rumormonger Merry, whichever name works. They asked for you by name as soon as possible," she rattles off the moment the receiver clicks, without even waiting for an answer or offering much space for one. "They've-- I don't know. Look, just get over here. I'm their sister and they've done-- I don't know yet. Bring oxygen, probably," she adds on impulse. She has no idea about first aid, but blue seems bad.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tae Takemi has posed.
<poem>Tae doesn't even get to say 'Takemi Medical Clinic' when she answers the phone, but from her chair in her office, her eyes widen. She listens, and So-young can hear rattling in the background the second she mentions 'bring oxygen'. "Shit... I'm not close... do you know first aid at all?" A Tokyo doctor having a Sumaru patient is frustrating at times, but that's why she's rushing out the door after checking the address, keeping her phone on.

Rushing to the train station to the point of literally running in the street because the alternative is either betraying a patient's trust if they called her up in such an emergency by having them call an ambulance, or letting them die, Tae curses under her breath again.

"I need you to crack open a window and check their pulse." IF So-young doesn't know how to do that, she walks her through it. "What's the situation? Do you know CPR?" She'll also walk her through *that*, if she can, best she can, because this is a shit show.

Once Tae's actually on the train, she hides her phone for a moment, stepping into a between car to quietly continue the call because fuck this noise. "Loosen any tight clothing, keep them on their side if you can once they're breathing. Right angles, head lightly back, continue CPR if it stops again. Keep them warm. If they're not getting better before I'm there, call an ambulance."

Oh, and if bleach is mentioned, Tae absolutely says 'do not force them to vomit'.

Eventually, after at least half an hour if not closer to an hour, Tae will be there. She barges straight in through the door, her supplies in a large bag, pulling out a cylinder of oxygen should they still need it in order to administer it via a mask. She'll be ready to talk only once she's sure they're not dead.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> Call made, So-young has spent the time in-between then and now staying on the phone as much as possible and otherwise trying to figure out what the hell to actually do to help, skirting along the edge of panic while also stubbornly insisting to herself that she absolutely refuses to panic in an attempt to mind-over matter herself out of it.

Between that point of mental conflict and her lack of first aid knowledge she's much more paralyzed than she'd really like to be, and her efforts end up being rather all over the place. Stripping Myunghon in the middle of the Cardboard Dragon while it's unlocked and while the bathroom is compromised is absolutely not what she signed up for, but it doesn't take her long to haul Johnny in a bout of adrenaline over to the back door to prop it mostly shut.

Still, taking into account Tae's orders, So-young has kind of got a rough plan in mind: getting the bleach-tainted clothes off of Myunghon probably comes first, if she had to guess, and then washing off any bleach to try to prevent chemical burns - but then there's the whole issue of removing the bandages, and So-young suddenly has to contend with the fact that she has no idea where the hell to even find running water in the shop other than in the incredibly miserable-smelling bathroom that might be full of poisonous fumes for all she knows.

Emitting a low note of some bundled-up emotion under her breath, So-young loudly kicks the bathroom door open to try to air it out, bracing it with a chair, and-- fuck, she just propped the fire door closed for privacy, and the rest of the windows are plate glass. Who the hell decided to convert an office building?! She wrenches Johnny back away from the fire door. Sorry, Johnny. "--open _which_ windows, exactly?" she rumbles to herself, but shakes her head.

So-young swears again under her breath, wavering as she looks towards the stairs up to the third floor. There's probably spare clothes up there, right? But--... shit, she decides. She's messed up enough around Sumaru. One dash downstairs and a few doors down the road and back and she's gotten a very basic but good-enough blanket from a local thrift store, throwing it over Myunghon and kneeling down next to them to check their breathing, her face stony by the time Tae arrives.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tae Takemi has posed.
<poem>Once Tae actually arrives and starts applying oxygen, seeing that So-young Left The Premises, she grimaces. "Don't leave them!" she barks out, clearly in Alert Mode.

"Bleach poisoning... did they say anything about how it happened?" she asks So-young, hoping to try and rouse Myunghon if she can. Consciousness is better than not.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Those black dress pants are stained with bleach and will likely either be done or be an unusual fashion statement. Myunghon doesn't seem particularly defiant with So-young's adventures in removing more bleach from them, though Johnny-kun is a little more defiant mostly because he's a big boy, but didn't So-young say conductors get a lot of upper arm exercise?

(You can also just. Use your Persona. In a pinch.)

"They swivel," Myunghon dizzily says in response to So-young's comment about windows. "Like... woosh."

Like 'woosh' is very ill-defined, but they're also basically unclothed and in a throw by the time Tae comes to ask if they've explained how it happened. This is probably not the first time Tae's dealt with this, and they say, "I was doing a Miracle Cleaning Experiment. It just went... a bit wrong," with the kind of reticience of a child suddenly being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Also, can I have a bronchodilator," they wheeze, inbetween breathes of the oxygen mask.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "--what the hell else was I supposed to do?!" So-young blasts back, her brow furrowed even as she pulls Johnny out of the way of the fire door with a business-like demeanour. "It's a shop and the only bathroom is full of bleach! There was barely anything to cover them with, let alone try to clean them up!" Alright, that's probably not strictly true. She could have gone up to the third floor, regardless of whatever might have been waiting for her up there, but she's more affected by some of her recent Sumaru Slip-ups than she'd like to admit, and breaking the taboo of Myunghon's privacy still feels like a dangerous one-way choice.

Which, alright, bleach poisoning is also a dangerous one-way choice. Maybe it would have balanced out. But maybe it wouldn't, and all So-young had to go on was her gut.

So-young has removed Myunghon's shirt by the time Tae arrives, the most affected garment from her sibling's fall into a puddle of bleach, and she's been smart enough to use pillows to prop Myunghon into something reasonably approaching a recovery position. The ventilation in the shop is pretty bad until Myunghon points out how to actually open the large louvre windows, but the conductor did at least drag across a fan to make sure that fresher air was circulating around Myunghon without blowing onto their face directly.

Dragging a hand down her face, the conductor has to pause to consider the other question. "... all I knew was that they stumbled out of the bathroom and immediately fell over. I haven't dared go in there to see what was up until the air cleared a bit." She doesn't mention the Miracle Cleaning Experiment yet, because that sounds a hell of a lot like mixing bleach with ammonia and even she's smart enough to know what the hell happens then and what it might imply.

She could try playing detective around that sound of tearing tape - probably will, once her heart stops hammering in her throat - but that question is one that can definitely wait for more pressing issues.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tae Takemi has posed.
<poem>"Go upstairs?!" Tae remarks, not knowing the Situation of the Third Floor. However, Myunghon's waking up...

And they ask for a bronchodilator. "Did you mix bleach with ammonia?" she asks as Myunghon mentions the experiment, reaching into her bag for one she brought because she is nothing if not prepared.

Providing it to Myunghon, she assumes they know how to use it, and will allow them to go from there unless they need help.

"This was absolutely reckless," she finally settles on, turning to focus her eyes on Myunghon. "We're lucky your sister found you. Wait too long and even I couldn't have done anything."

Though, she's turning something in her brain. Myunghon absolutely seems the type to know what mixing chemicals will do... but she won't press *that* point just yet. She needs more info first.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Being unclothed does seem to bother Myunghon more than they let on, especially with their binder gone, so they do shuffle up to try to stand while trying to grasp the throw around them and then utterly fails because there's no way their body is functioning enough to be able to get them any amount of distance, let alone up stairs. "Um. There's a cardboard box with some clothes not far from the stairs..." they guess. "And some others hanging up if not."

They're not particularly alert enough to realise what they're doing, sending So-young up to the third floor.

"I was doing a Miracle Cleaning Experiment, like I said," Myunghon protests in that half-conscious slur of theirs, though there's perhaps more lucidity there than even they can conceal, more weighed down by mood than anything. "It was only a little bit of toilet cleaner. It was going to make everything shine again."

Tae's treated Myunghon for physical wounds and knows the absolute State their body is in too, and as that something turns in her brain, Takemi knows that it's not just the old scars that riddle Myunghon's arms either.

"... but thank you for coming. How much do I owe you?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young is more than a little cowed by Tae's immediate rejoinder, having to let out a shaky breath as she drags her hand back down her face. It's a lot to try to take in all of this while also trying to figure out how to explain to someone that she's not really that sure whether she's earned enough trust to go into a place she's built up in her mind to be Myunghon's inner sanctum, while also _also_ trying to hold in her head that she has a performance tomorrow and the show must go on and it's difficult to focus and figure out how much she needs to realign herself around this new situation--

With an effort, So-young tries her hardest to cut that spiral off. She's not that empathic or emotionally intelligent a soul, but she can recognize a particularly unhelpful line of thought when she thinks one. Still, she can't prevent the way her eyes glint with a quiet and fierce light when Myunghon doesn't exactly deny the contents of the Experiment, one of her hands pulling at the air for a moment as she twitches. At least she manages to push most of that frustration down before she says anything too stupid, even if part of her immediately, childishly, wants to tell Myunghon to go get the box of clothes themselves.

Going up to the third floor is something to do, something to redirect herself towards, and she nods as she tromps her way up the stairs. "Anything in--... particular?" she calls, the faint hitch in her voice giving away the moment where she sees the state of the place, before slowly continuing with a certain degree of bite in her voice: "Or, you know, whatever's safest?"

Either way, she takes her time - partially to allow Tae some space to work, partially to properly take in the state of the third floor and where to even begin to process it, and partially because she needs a moment herself before she comes back down.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tae Takemi has posed.
<poem>"I see," Tae says brusquely to Myunghon, even as she tries to make sure they're okay, checking them for burns and bleach stains.

"Is that really going to make you shine again?" she asks, pointedly. She's potentially realized the score from recollecting the evidence, those hesitation wounds she's seen.

"Don't worry about that right now," she says dismissively to the idea of being paid. It wasn't even on her mind right now, so she can defer it to later. She waits for So-young to be out of earshot, lowering her voice.

"Yeo-san... do you have a death wish?"

Part of her doesn't want to pry. But if she's going to be their doctor, she does need to know what she's in for. It hasn't even crossed her mind to cut them as a patient like it may for others in their past, not when they're in a vulnerable state like this.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon is now just realising just what the hell they've done when they've sent So-young up to the third floor, and how much of an earful they're going to get when So-young discovers the absolute State that it's in. That roof corner is at literal risk of collapsing with how rainy it's been, and the mould hasn't done any better even with all the bleach they're playing with.

It's also just... Sad. A cold, lumpy futon in the center, next to a minifridge that's just lounging around with the cord out to the wall, a whole pile of disinfectant, and stacks and stacks of boxes from someone who hasn't bothered to unpack anything ever. She first finds--

A big box of Koalas. They're really cute... and a bit worn. One of them has a little tear on its arm.

The other box is probably what Myunghon's talking about, and the first t-shirt So-young lifts out is a pink shirt with an exhausted antromorphic bicycle on it that reads:

MY BICYCLE IS TWO-TIRED TO GO RIGHT NOW

Is that shirt more cringe than the third floor?

"It was," Myunghon mumbles to Tae very quietly, suddenly recessing into themself and the bleary bags behind their eyes. It's not even just the poisoning, there's layers of neglect happening here. But even as Tae waves away the topic of payment for now (Myunghon thinks Tae's figured out they like deflecting by talking about that), their doctor just hits them right where it hurts.

"... ... ..."

A pause, as they glance aside.

"Are you going to tell me I'm being irresponsible," they say, suddenly cold and guarded, shrinking into themself, like a cornered animal. "... thank you for the oxygen, Dr. Takemi. I'll be fine now."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> Whatever So-young thinks of the third floor, she's determined to unpack that later rather than this instant. She has to pick and choose what she thinks about right now, and even she's got the Understanding to know that this is probably not the time to haul off in an angry tirade, even if the reason why that first comes to mind is 'I don't want to give them the satisfaction of doing so'. If there is any indication of what's going through her mind, it's the quiet k-chk of her phone's camera going off a couple of times. She can't just leave it alone, but it's not something she can deal with alone either.

She pauses for long enough to take a deep breath to centre herself. She may have known the doctor all of two seconds, but that's still enough to be fairly sure that some pertinent questions are being asked right now, and maybe it's better to spend a little longer up here before she comes down and bams back into the conversation. Cautiously, she steps around the boxes, inspecting a couple of them - and seeing the poor koalas is almost a relief, a huff of something like the start of laughter rumbling through her.

It's not that much longer before she finds the box of shirts. "--seriously, did you just buy a factory outlet's stock or something and call it good?" she mutters quietly to herself, already sure she's hit on the right answer. The pink monstrosity she finds after rifling through a few of them is certainly cringe, but the joke's on Myunghon here, because if there is any way that So-young can extract a little bit of petty revenge for her panic it's in making sure the Rumourmonger wears the most ridiculous thing possible.

She swallows the lump in her throat, and decides to risk raising her voice, hoping the waver in it is covered up. "... do you need new bandages? Are they up here?" she calls down the stairs.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tae Takemi has posed.
<poem>Tae listens, and as she notices those layers of neglect, she's frowning. As Myunghon glances away and asks if she's going to call them irresponsible...

"I'm going to do no such thing," Tae tells them, voice firm yet sympathetic, refusing to leave. "I just need to know how to better treat you. I may not be a psychologist but that doesn't mean I'm just going to let a patient destroy themself without trying to do anything."

A breath, as she shifts her footing. "What would help you right now?" A quick pause, before she quips, "Besides me leaving."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Take a picture of the urinal too, So-young. Have you even ever seen a urinal in your life. And if not, how do you feel about the fucking ridiculous idea that there's a men's bathroom for what passes for what should be your sibling's bathroom.

Some of the other boxes contain more personal items, since So-young's searching. One of the boxes just has no marking on her search for a t-shirt, and she opens it and a photo of an unfamiliar, picturesque young woman is staring back at her dressed in Myunghon's femme clothes. She's quite pretty, with long black hair done up fashionably, but there's something distant in her stare.

Next to her is a taller woman, a young man in leathers, and another person dressed in a casual chic suit sporting a wolf cut that really could be Myunghon if it wasn't clearly someone else.

They're standing in front of a store in some department store: LAPIN ANGELIQUE.

Once she comes back down, though, Myunghon raises one eyebrow to say, "Closing down sale... I think...?" There's a pause as So-young asks if they need new bandages. They look to Tae, perhaps expecting the doctor to have opinions of them covering up all their scars with bandages.

"Yes, please bring them down," they call nonetheless. Tae asks what they need from her right now. "... to not say anything," comes the rather quick and desperate response. It's easier... laughing it all off. The moment they all get worried and think you're not safe to leave alone... it's all over.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> At the very least, So-young _is_ genuinely being careful to not snoop around too much and to not ascribe every problem up here directly to Myunghon or anything. Besides, she hasn't exactly been given explicit permission to be up here, given how delirious Myunghon is right now, and-- it still doesn't feel right. All she's got is her gut to go off, and her gut says to treat this as lightly as she can.

So she doesn't take a photo of the urinal, and nor does she bring it up outside of wrinkling her nose at it as she searches. The conductor is deep in uncharted territory here, in every sense - it's very much a mirror of what Myunghon has told her. So-young would rather be chilling with an Inugami than trying to navigate the web of concerns and caution that she needs to here, especially when bulling through it all is going to probably be catastrophically destructive rather than just regular destructive.

But she can't help her curiosity either, and she's automatically drawn towards the sight of a younger Myunghon with-- another sibling? Is there a third secret sibling?? Is that actually _more_ likely now that Parkdora's Sibling Box has been opened, rather than less??? So-young's head is swimming slightly and it might not even be the state of this floor doing it. With infinite care she puts the photo back where she found it, tucking the thought of it at the back of her mind.

When she comes downstairs, it's for just long enough to bundle up the t-shirt and throw it over to where Myunghon is on the couch, and to take in the sight of Tae still in position to examine Myunghon further. Her lips tighten into a line, and she ducks back upstairs in search of the bandages before Tae can overrule her, because it still feels like a conversation she shouldn't be in, somehow.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tae Takemi has posed.
<poem>Tae considers Myunghon's words, as they call out to their sister. "I won't," she says, even if it wasn't a breach of doctor-patient confidentiality to do so.

She's not going to tell them not to wear the bandages right now, if it'll make them comfortable. "Keep them just loose enough," is all she says when they look to her.

Once So-young returns and leaves again, however...

"...I want you to call me immediately whenever you have an emergency like this again. If you can't, make sure your friends know who they can call in case of... another accident," she says, sighing. "Put me in speed dial if you have to. But don't feel shame for calling for help. It's my job."

Tae can think of many colleagues who wouldn't have gone this far for someone who, frankly, is uncooperative and slightly a hassle to work with. But...

If you can't help one of your more vulnerable patients, who *can* you help? She's already a useless doctor as is. She can't let another person get hurt because of her inaction.
</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Just how many more secret siblings could there be, So-young? You just know Suzie Park's got a whole farm going right now. That's the only thing in life she cares about: Aura farming.

Myunghon does accept the t-shirt and pauses with a frown, before calling out, "You don't have to-- act like you'd be eavesdropping if you stayed here." That, it seems, is how they seem to have taken So-young's behaviour in the short-term right now, as they wiggle behind the throw with more difficulty than one would expect to get the t-shirt on with a bit of a sigh. Fortunately, it's long enough that it's basically a shirt-dress at present, because Myunghon only buys oversize t-shirts.

There's a quietly glum nod as Tae tells them to call -- and to not feel shame for asking for help. It probably doesn't make Myunghon feel good that the reason they called ''is'' because So-young showed up when they weren't expecting anyone, because sometimes these things just exist to let them feel their way through the whole lot and then abort gracefully, but today's...

They don't have the capability to unpack that right now. They didn't even take their mon coins with them. Foolish. Hiroto's gonna shake his head at them for not having boat fare.

"O-oh, you know," Myunghon does start up, somewhat desperate to get off the topic as well, "Dr. Takemi operates out of Yongen-jaya, nuna. It'd be much more convenient for you to go to her if you need emergency treatment in Tokyo."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young hesitates on the stares, and then puffs out a breath as she looks over at Myunghon. She's still upset, but it's blunted a bit now, even if she folds her arms defensively. "... alright," she recognizes with a nod. "Just bear with me. I'm still kind of reeling, you know," she grumbles a little, but disappears up the stairs. Fortunately, Myunghon definitely has lots of bandage available, and it's easy enough for her to find a roll and some gauze for good measure and almost immediately step back downstairs.

She comes down just as the doctor is giving her lecture, and this at least makes her smirk a little in dark humour as she hands the bandages over, and then plonks herself down on the other end of the couch heavily enough it nearly throws Myunghon off it. Pausing, she looks at the colour of Myunghon's face, breathing a little easier at the way the last of the blue has bled out of them in the last few minutes.

The tiredness hits her all at once as the adrenaline further drains away. The way in which the doctor mentions 'another accident' with that little pause makes her deeply suspicious, but that is a problem that can be firmly left for Tomorrow's So-young. "You should drink something," she notes after a moment as a neuron reminds her of her big important plan, furrowing her brow as she tries to call up more details. That feels familiar, and she hesitates. Oh, right, the bathroom was Not Safe. "... something from a bottle, and not a tap."

Hauling herself back towards sitting up, So-young finally really focuses on the doctor for perhaps the first time this scene. "Nice choker," So-young notes with genuine admiration, before snorting a little to herself. "So-young Park, out of Shibuya," she introduces herself. The conductor is absolutely the sort of 'I'm bulletproof yaaay' person to have not even enrolled with a doctor's office any time lately. "I do find myself needing a lot more emergency treatment lately," she adds at a complete deadpan.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tae Takemi has posed.
<poem>Myunghon nods, at least, so Tae knows that either they'll do it or they'll think about doing it, and either is good. But Myunghon changes the subject, as Tae turns over to So-young.

"Ah, thank you. Dr. Tae Takemi, of the Takemi Medical Clinic." Oh, she owns a practice! Why is she doing shady medicine in the Cardboard Dragon. "My rates aren't awful, so feel free to come down." A pause, at the 'a lot more emergency treatment', before she sighs.

"I won't ask, like I don't ask your sibling. Just try not to drag anything illegal my way if you do."

So-young might get the idea that Tae is actually Unawakened, from her complete lack of Resonance.

Tae will begin packing her bag though, not wanting to overstay Myunghon's patience. Her day's botched as is with transit time, so she might as well go home once she's done here.

"Keep hydrated. Come by or call me immediately if anything gets worse, and..." She looks over at Myunghon's dark circles again.

"Get some rest, alright?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Oh, Myunghon fully expects to get the full brunt of So-young's fury once her sister's had a chance to process. But at the same time, to them it does feel shitty to make someone extremely alarmed about your medical emergency and then also make them feel unwelcome because they need to talk hush-hush about things to the doctor even though there are many things you should just talk in confidential to your doctor.

"Um... water in the minifridge," Myunghon tries to keep their wits together long enough to be able to point out that they do sell water to gamers. Not their bathwater, fortunately, not that they even own a bath.

Takemi packing up does make them feel awful that they've brought them all the way here for -- well, it is a medical emergency that needed to be answered still, but... "I also need refills for my usual prescriptions..." they say, if only to just make them perceive they wasted her time less. Even if Tae did end up finding something significant about her patient, and it's not a good thing.

"Um-- yes..." at this point, though, Myunghon does seem rather compliant. If only because she might be getting ready to get an earful of it.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young's anger seems to have burnt out of her for the time being, and to be fair to her it's not like she felt unwelcome so much as she was using the chance to bustle around and busy-body as something of her own coping strategy. She does at least haul herself back to her feet one last time, squinting into the mini-fridge as she pulls out a couple of bottles and hands one over to Myunghon.

"Yongen-jaya is a bit out of the way, but I'll have to look you up," So-young notes pleasantly, back in more familiar waters here. The musician isn't great at detecting Resonance and even worse at interpreting the results of that detection, but that doesn't matter too much, because she's already kind of having fun in terms of just playing coy about what they've been up to. "I'm pretty sure I haven't done anything illegal, no," she makes a show of musing. "Unless you count blasting Pachelbel at 4am."

She pauses, and bows her head slightly as Myunghon tries to make more work for the doctor. "... thank you for coming out on short notice," she says solemnly, because she's still not entirely sure what would have happened otherwise. With that said, she kind of flops back onto the couch, spreads her arms out wide and adds a wordless sort of 'ugggg' noise.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tae Takemi has posed.
<poem>As Myunghon mentions their prescriptions, Tae has a decent idea what they're doing... but she nods. It means they still want her to be their doctor, at least, and that's better than nothing. "I'll let you know when they're ready. It shouldn't take long."

So-young, meanwhile, gets a nod... and a laugh at the Pachelbel. "I think that's a war crime," she says lightly.

But as they thank her, she dismisses it with a wave. "Don't worry about it. Just don't get killed, especially by your neighbors," a glance back to So-young for that one, continuing their joke. "I can't fix *that*."

And then, as So-young flops, she'll exit.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

Myunghon Yeo

2025-12-11T00:48:26Z

Merilan:

{| class="toccolours" style="width: 15%; float: right; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align: left; font-size: %110" cellspacing="2"
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Myunghon Yeo'''
|-
! colspan="2" align="center" | [[File:Myunghon4.jpg|300px]]
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''IC Information'''
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Full Name:
| Myunghon Yeo 여 명혼 - Hanja: 麗明魂
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Tsumei:
| Myorei Yukichi - 諭吉明霊
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Arcana:
| Devil
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Pronouns:
| They/them
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Gender:
| 人間失格
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Age (Birthdate):
| 23 (May 23rd, 1991)
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Hair Colour:
| Ash-white
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Eye Colour:
| Gray, filmy
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Height:
| 175cm (5'9")
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Residence:
| The Cardboard Dragon, 3rd Floor
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Workplace:
| The Cardboard Dragon, 2nd Floor
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Job:
| Rumourmonger
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Role:
| Focus
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Persona:
| Kudlak
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''OOC Information'''
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Source:
| Persona 5 (OC)
|-
! style="text-align:left" |Voice Actor (JP):
| Sumire Uesaka
|-
! style="text-align:left" |Voice Actor (EN):
| Amber Lee Connors
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Groups:
| Cardboard Dragon
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Player:
| [[User:Merilan]]
|-
|}

'''"The higher I rose, the more I realised what I did disqualified me as a human being."'''

Myunghon Yeo -- Myorei Yukichi to most -- is the capricious, bohemian Zainichi Korean owner of the Cardboard Dragon, a dingy little book and card store in Hirasaka Ward, Sumaru City. However, the shop acts as a front for their true job as the leader of the Baengnyong, an information agency that employs a number of Zainichi Koreans, including those with darker backgrounds. In the evening, they are Rumourmonger Merry, selling rumours and tips to those willing to pay top price, possessing intel some believe she obtains through dark means. The truth is both plainer and stranger -- they spelunk the depths of the supernatural to acquire secrets and valuables from people's hearts. Despite their relatively young age, Myunghon possesses a prodigal history through the ladders of international corporations, which makes their betrayal as architect of the Great Surrender, which saw a large corporation fall during the Great Recession a few years back, baffling to those who believe they had a secure, comfortable future in its wings.

= Background =

==Season 1, Episode 1==

First seen performing Magic River Teleportation in the Hyakumanzeki Festival in Rengedai, Myunghon Yeo -- aka Rumourmonger Merry -- is an eccentric, bohemian individual on the surface concealing disaster and sorrow underneath that gentle masking. What have they gotten up to? Why...

=== MSQ: The Cardboard Dragon ===

* In June and July, Myunghon became fast friends with a number of Persona-Users, including [[Shinjiro Aragaki]], who came to them on the case of the Joker Killer, [[Shinobu Shimizu]] and [[Remi Ryuuja]], who works for the Cardboard Dragon, and [[Mio Kazama]], whose driving skills they rely on frequently.
* Myunghon struggles with having to oppose their closest friends [[Miho Ijuuin]], [[Yua Ooshiro]] and [[Remi Ryuuja]], who have ties and masks behind the NWO.
* Myunghon found out they have a [[2025-07-25:_A_WILD_SISTER_HAS_APPEARED|half-sister]] in [[So-young Park]]!
* The Cardboard Dragon group helped take down the Emperor and Empress Full Moon Shadows, rescuing [[Fuuka Yamagishi]] in the process.
* The Cardboard Dragon group [[2025-08-15:_Scarface|helped take down Kaneshiro]], where they discovered that the Phantom Thieves of Hearts are also interested in Palaces.
* Myunghon is investigating the Kirijo Group on behalf of [[Yukari Takeba]].
* The Cardboard Dragon group is also taking on investigating Eiji's palace for [[Ichika Kawase]] and also the Atelier of Taro Nakata for [[Hazuki Nakao]].

=== No Longer Human Arc ===

* They met [[Tsumugi Kujaku]] at the Peacock Silk, who [[2025-08-12:_Are_You_Alive|wondered if they were alive or dead]], yet reminded them that intimacy was still something they felt.
* Following these instincts, they ask Shinobu to take them out to the arcade and conspire with Shinjiro to buy rock ticket concerts for them, and [[2025-09-09:_Where_Does_It_Stop|confessed their attraction]] to Shinobu, who couldn't return their feelings.
* With awkward tensions abound in the Cardboard Dragon, Myunghon is [[2025-09-24:_The_Best_of_All_Possible_Worlds|visited]] by Tsumugi after a long day and the two spend the night together despite their hesitations over the former's perspective on freedom and attachments.
* Myunghon ''instantly'' regrets this decision the next morning when Shinobu [[2025-09-25:_The_Morning_After|walks in on them]] asleep.

'''Next Objective:''' Reject Intimacy, Bottle Everything Up Again

=== The Food Arc ===

* Myunghon confessed that food tastes like ash to [[2025-08-07:_Tiny_Apartment_Confessional|Shinjiro]], [[2025-08-24:_Picky_Eaters|Yua]] and some other people and have no sense of taste or smell.
* They still don't want to give up on food. They asked Katsuya to [[2025-09-25:_Rise_of_the_Vampire_Baker|teach them how to bake]] so they can treat others.

'''Next Objective:''' Wait for the Blood Cravings to Hit

=== The Racist Cop Arc ===

* Myunghon is being repeatedly profiled and harrassed by a racist cop, Koichi Ishiba, and has had to be bailed out by [[Reiko Shimizu]] and [[Katsuya Suou]] on different occasions.
* The racist cop arc reached a climax when Koichi Ishiba [[2025-08-30: Otherside Picnic|gave them a concussion and a dislocated shoulder]] and sent them to the hospital.
* It's revealed Myunghon is traumatised and [[2025-08-31:_The_White_Room|terrified of hospitals]] which led Tsumugi to [[2025-09-03:_Why_Do_Birds_Fly|send them flying out their window]], which in turn made them the topic of a vampire that appeared at Hirasaka Hospital. Now they can't stay in the sun for long and probably have a blood craving too.
* They had to be convinced out of [[2025-09-02: Constants|giving Koichi Ishiba a Mental Shutdown]] following the above.
* They [[2025-09-13:_Like_a_Cardboard_Dragon:_Ishin!!|nearly got killed by their mother]], famous actress Suzie Park, when it was revealed she isn't happy with how they're running the Baengnyong and also how poorly they're handling being profiled by a racist cop. They're still terrified of her.

'''Next Objective:''' Remain Paralysed in Fear

=== Sidequests ===

* They [[2025-08-12: I Rolled A One|run a post-midnight tabletop group]] for Jack Frost and Pyro Jack.
* They worked hard to get [[Tsubasa Seki]] a binder at the Peacock Silk!! And then they befriended certified good dog Lance too.
* They agreed to let [[Hitomi Mandai]] run a tabletop game at the Cardboard Dragon.
* They found out they shared a passion over stuffing toy cars in their mouth with Pernelle.

= Persona =

'''Kudlak:''' Kudlak is a pitch-black humanoid figure in a large, fluttering cape that blends seamlessly with Myunghon's black cognitive coat. His limbs are similarly matte-dark, with the suggestion of a 17th century nobleman's attire towards his top. Though he barely has a face, crimson eyes peek out from behind silvered bangs.

= Skills =

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Intellect'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Superluminary
|Thinking. Overthinking. Overthinking so hard you're underthinking
|-
|Fin de Siecle
|Book Nerds. 1900's facts. Nostalgia.
|-
|A Fool's Life
|Rumourmongers. Hope. (Or that goal-shifting thing you call hope, anyway)
|-
|Commedia dell Arte
|Demon Negotiations. Cops that ask why you're floating in the river
|-
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Psyche'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Koala March
|Lefties. Communists. Calories. UNCOOL FOR: Diabetics
|-
|Baengnyong
|Criminals. Pretend-criminals. Palaces
|-
|Jirai-kei
|Homoerotic Stabbings. Mouldy third floor dwellings
|-
|Communauté
|Not turning up to boss fights alone. Hirasaka
|-
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Physique'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|No Longer Human
|Faking it. Hurt/Comfort fics
|-
|Antiseptic
|You. UNCOOL FOR: Poison Control
|-
|White Room
|Lifting two boxes before you give up and call Shinobu
|-
|I Am A Cat
|Hittin da Bricks
|-
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Motorics'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Fish Eye
|Pretending you have depth perception
|-
|Magickque
|Skill Cards. Magicians. Being outsmarted by dogs
|-
|Преступленіе и наказаніе
|Rich people with deeply unrich brains
|-
|Stay Frosty
|KOOL FOR: Jack
|-
|}

= Relationships =

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="3" | '''Reltionships'''
|-
!Name
!Skill
!Thought
|-
|'''Dettol''' (750ml bottle)
|★★★★★ ★★★★★
|Thou hast truly forged an inseparable bond. Where one goes, the other follows, wafting about on the winds. Forget the odd looks. They don't ''understand'' you and your whirlwind romance with corner store disinfectants.
|-
|[[Miho Ijuuin]]
|★★★
|There is an intimate promise that sabre-steel will penetrate into your flesh right to the hilt, until you spasm and quiver; "Just a little more," you say, until you can't hold your coronary arteries in any longer.
|-
|[[Yua Ooshiro]]
|★★★
|''Protect.'' It feels ''good'' to hear that from her, doesn't it? How long has it been since you last let yourself be ''vulnerable''? How long until it becomes a mistake again?
|-
|[[Remi Ryuuja]]
|★★★
|And this is the the third reason, isn't it? I have news, though: salary and blood are mutually exclusive, no matter how much you pretend it isn't.
|-
|[[Shinobu Shimizu]]
|★★★
|A cold, hard splash. Your lungs, full of chlorine, salt and blood. You can't breathe... she's taken your breath away.
|-
|[[Shinjiro Aragaki]]
|★★★
|You've ''really'' done it now. You let another one get close. His is your scent -- the scent of death and sacrifice. He won't betray you like the others... right?
|-
|[[Yukari Takeba]]
|★★
|If you need to know how hard it was for her to confide in you, just ''think'' about how hard it would be for Myorei Yukichi to have done the same thing.
|-
|[[Katsuya Suou]]
|★★
|The days of trite fun when he was your ''tsukkomi'' are over.
|-
|[[Mio Kazama]]
|★
|You have ''no idea'' what a V6 is. No matter what you do, don't pretend you do -- you're already ''the weird adult'' to this speed-demon.
|-
|[[Ulala Serizawa]]
|★
|A cold breeze stings your spine through the old windows and reminds you: ''Not everyone gets a friend as steadfast as that.''
|-
|[[Maya Amano]]
|★
|Your nerves are fire. She has spoken ''dangerwords,'' words that arouse both Mr. Fight and Mr. Flight into a homoerotic twist: is it possible that the Cardboard Dragon could be... ''cool''?
|-
|[[Hitomi Mandai]]
|★
|The human finger is slathered in a grotesque package of fat and dead skin cells. You believe this young woman understands that cards are more precious than fingers.
|-
|[[Suzume Fukura]]
|★
|Somewhere within the labyrinthine-complex of Stratum-4 is a triple-pack of Killers, but it is not even an obstacle to someone with eighth-bit mastery.
|-
|[[Yanagi Nagisa]]
|★
|It still stings, doesn't it? Long after she left, her mark still lingers in the store, telling you what could be, if only you believed more in life and the living.
|-
|[[Tsumugi Kujaku]]
|★
|You long ago swore an oath to me to make your facade ''invincible''. In Kujaku you see the you that actually succeeded at that. But there's more to it than that, isn't there?
|-
|[[So-young Park]]
|★
|You can either continue to wallow in this shallow jealousy of haves and have-nots, or you can band together with nuna and confront the common nemesis that is your mother.
|-
|[[Ayame Watanabe]]
|★
|Drowning. Drowning. Drowning. Your lungs, full of air... she has received the length of your measure. Snip.
|-
|[[Ikkaku Watanabe]]
|★
|You can lose blood. You can lose fingers. Your psyche can break. Koume shouldn't lose her father.
|-
|[[Ichika Kawase]]
|★
|Are you done talking to her in the language of eggshells? You messed up. There's no other way I can put it.
|-
|}

= Soundtrack =

* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPd-iAMktY8 Euthanasia] by Will Wood
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSm5gKlmw2M Spamton] by Toby Fox
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBB70hwxWec Choice] by Jack Stauber
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rAA-1LUI_M KIKIKAITAI] by Kanna Katata · MURASAKI
= Logs and Cutscenes =

==Season 1==

===Logs===
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|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Logs'''
|-
| <div style="column-count: 2;">
{{#dpl:
|category = logs&season 1
|linksto = {{PAGENAME}}
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|columns = 2
|rowcolformat=width=50%
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| addcategories = true
| mode = userformat
| format = ,,\n* [[%PAGE%]],
|noresultsheader=There are no logs on this wiki that {{PAGENAME}} participated in.
}}
| </div>
|-
|}

===Cutscenes===
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Cutscenes'''
|-
| <div style="column-count: 2;">
| {{#dpl:
|category = cutscenes&season 1
|linksto = {{PAGENAME}}
|ordermethod = title
|columns = 2
|rowcolformat=width=50%
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| format = ,,\n* [[%PAGE%]],
|noresultsheader=There are no cutscenes on this wiki that {{PAGENAME}} participated in.
}}
| </div>
|-
|}

[[Category:Characters]]
[[Category:Cardboard Dragon]]
[[Category:Focus]]

2025-12-04: TARGET: Cursed Taxi

2025-12-06T07:56:14Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: TARGET: Cursed Taxi''' *'''Cast:''' Ruzica Crvena, Eveline Deschamps, Kanae Fuyuki, Katsuko Yoshinaga, Yua Ooshiro, So-young Park, Tamaki Uchida, Remi Ryuuja, Moriko Kumamoto *'''Where:''' Yumezaki Ward, Sumaru City *'''OOC Date:''' December 05, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 21, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Several Persona Users are out to hunt the Cursed Taxi Rumour Demon when Ruzica Crvena, seeking money for rent, destroys the demo..."

*'''Log: TARGET: Cursed Taxi'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Ruzica Crvena]], [[Eveline Deschamps]], [[Kanae Fuyuki]], [[Katsuko Yoshinaga]], [[Yua Ooshiro]], [[So-young Park]], [[Tamaki Uchida]], [[Remi Ryuuja]], [[Moriko Kumamoto]]
*'''Where:''' Yumezaki Ward, Sumaru City
*'''OOC Date:''' December 05, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 21, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Several Persona Users are out to hunt the Cursed Taxi Rumour Demon when Ruzica Crvena, seeking money for rent, destroys the demon and turns to challenge the heroes. Meanwhile, looking on to the battle, Eve battles against the Cursed Bride and her Knight, of the New World ORder.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
One of the worst parts about Yumezaki Ward, in Sumaru City, is that it's a town that never sleeps.

It's one of the most mortifying places to be in the Dark Hour. Even as the clock strikes midnight, Yumezaki doesn't know when to call it quits -- it'll sleep when it's good and dead. Even out here, near the Mu Continent, which has recently been the hot topic of being a casino (despite gambling being illegal in Japan, hence gray businessses such as Pachinko Silver nearby)...

12:00

It's a veritable sea of coffins. Coffins, strewn and piled high as far as the eye can see. The cold-white shine of all the electronic billboards and fluorescent neons of Yumezaki's hottest nightclubs, karaoke towers, late-night izakayas, restaurants, pubs and what have you all turn that trademark sickly green. The moon is low and pregnant, with a similar ill feeling, and on this night, as it has been dictated by the town's gossip recently...

A group of Persona Users (i.e., you!) are in hot pursuit, for one reason or another, of the elusive Cursed Taxi Rumour Demon. That's right -- it was a rumour where a taxi driven by a skeleton that speaks in a Kansai accent, a man who died of overwork, will spirit you away to an otherworldly realm. It's curious who will even be affected by such a rumour if it largely appears during the Dark Hour, but it was there, and--

"'fraid I can't let y'all git in the way of mah business," drawls the skeleton in a patented whachamacallit Kansai hootenanny accent, a bold choice by the 2012 localisation team.

The yellow taxicab, which menaces with a front grill lined with a lower jaw full of sharp teeth (not safe for road), roars to the attack!!

BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDLdMClC6YQ
�

The Cursed Taxi threatens to leave you to (literally) choke on its vapours (which does light Almighty damage and has a chance to Haze), just ram into people (light damage with chance of insurance fraud), bite them (light gross damage defended by your TDaP shot), and also perform that most legendary of manoeuvres... the Electric Powerslide (medium electric damage and eurobeat noise). It's really all you want, when your home life's a wreck, ya ya ya ya ya.

Two minutes on, the battle looks to be going well, no powers that be just breathing down your neck, until-- Supernatural senses sharply alert the Persona Users to a presence -- far above?!

A shooting star descends from above. No, wait... a human being is in freefall, long coat fluttering behind them, descending as a shooting star would to the battlefield. It descends, further, further, further--

"What in tarnation--?" asks the Cursed Taxi's driver, before--

--==THHOOOOOOOOOOOMMM==--

The Resonance of a Persona erupts a moment before an impactful and HORRID noise, the sheer shockwave BLASTING everyone back a good five to ten metres as the light descends upon the Cursed Taxi, consuming it in zealous destruction. (A wheel completely flies off in someone's direction. It has sweet spinnin' rims and is worth 5,700 yen second-hand at the Peacock Silk if you catch it.)

The light subsides, leaving only the wreckage of what was once the heroes' quarry but a moment ago. The taxi is a wreck, and you can briefly see the Kansai skeleton yeethawing back into the Cognitive South (gomenasorry), he gets no respect (he gets no relief).

The eerie silence of the Dark Hour reigns once more, then--

Two inhuman golden eyes light up from within the shattered shadows of the taxi.

"Target... destroyed."

The shadow pulls up. A young, black-haired Hunter in a red and black hunting outfit rises, a silver blade at her side. The gleam of her eyes cuts through even the sickly filter of the Hour.

The Hunter seizes an inert lamplight from the Taxi and tears its guts out, a trophy to present to someone as evidence of a successful hunt.

... HEY, does that make her a KILLSTEALER?! That makes them a killstealer! Dirty killstealer!!!! You gotta speak up and yell out your piece!

The Hunter notices the rest of the heroes, however, and turns towards them. Her expression inscrutable, her eyes wide and appraising -- if not calculating -- seemingly for her next target. This is even more readily apparent a moment later:

BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pcZ9RoZZHYg
�

"Persona Users..."

She prowls on out of the wreckage of the car, one step at a time, her grim trophy still held in one hand, her silver gunblade -- adorned with small roses in unnatural colours, with a trigger mechanism for a hilt -- dragging pavement with a thin shower of sparks.

"The currents of time... are once more moving..."

So the Hunter intones, eyes piercingly unsettling still. The unsettling scraping of her blade continues with its ear-piercing noise, her posture hunched and doll-like and yet exuding nothing but cold threat.

"Do you possess... the strength of heart to resist it?"

The Hunter cognitively manifests a silver injector into their hand, holding it knife-grip.

"To my side..."

She PLUNGES it into the side of her neck--

"Ushiwakamaru."

An ERUPTION of Blue heralds the surge of her Persona's rise and ground-shaking roar -- a red-and-black Tengu with demonic features garbed in stylised Heian o-yoroi that drapes around and above her as an armored mantle with a massive wingspan of jet-black crow wings.

Suddenly, there isn't just two pairs of unsettling golden eyes, but four, as her Persona joins on the gazing, crushing what seems like a fistful of magic corn (??) into its mouth.

"Show me..."
</poem>

AS: Persona! Ruzica Crvena has used the Almighty skill My Favourite Makaracorn! on Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Pressure: Ruzica Crvena gains 1 Limit!
AS: Take! Ruzica Crvena takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's My Favourite Makaracorn!.
AS: Reflect_Magi added!
+attack ruzica=shirahadori

AS: Persona! Ruzica Crvena has used the Almighty skill Shirahadori on Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Take! Ruzica Crvena takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's Shirahadori.
AS: Slash_Wall and Strike_Wall added!

AS: Ruzica Crvena has readied for combat with Ushiwakamaru! She is adjusted! Ready for 5 opponents!

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>The dust settles. The Cursed Taxi is dead.

As the Hunter steps forwards, her Resonance flaring in a way that it can be detected clearly, footsteps suddenly echo from behind the Persona Users.

Another Hunter stands behind them, her Resonance clearly shrouded. She wears a finely made cognitive brown leather jacket that screams Old Europe, with trousers, a mantle, and a scarf. Rugged leather boots step forward, as she holds a weathered bolt action rifle in one hand against her shoulder. A dark top hat rests against her head. Her outfit is dusty, like she had been taking a sniping position before this.

Regardless, those who've met her before will recognize her, as the proprietor of the Fleur de Lis, Eveline Deschamps. Her short blonde hair and French heritage makes it clear, though her glasses are rounded instead of square.

"`Satisfactory work,`" Eve tells the other Hunter in fluent French. "This hunt is now complete."

Though, she'll look over those who were fighting, eyes scanning for recognition and threat levels.

Even so, the Hunter makes it clear she still wishes to hunt. Eve starts walking towards them, past the group... it may seem like she's going to stop the Hunter.

This is proven wrong, when she steps *past* them, turns around, and exhales once.

"Greenhorns," she says in an even tone. She cannot easily stop the Hunter when they're like this... but neither would she if she could.

"This is good practice. Let us test your resolve."

It's good practice... but for who?

Slipping a vial of something out of her sleeve that, when cracked open, smells very much toxic and poisonous, she downs it in a single instant, her veins bulging, her pupils dilating. She clutches the side of her head, a rictus grin manifesting onto her face...

"Guro Rysserova."

As a Shadowy woman with scarlet silk hair and a cannon on her arm manifests in an eruption of blue, wearing parts of a black tank as armor. She has horse hooves and a tail, and she radiates heat just by existing. Thermal goggles cover her eyes. With a flicker of a hand, two holographic screens made of flame manifest in front of Eve, her fingers going harmlessly to touch both of them and start sliding across them.

"Hunt authorized. Initiating Wideguard Protocol."

The same shroud she was wearing suddenly flares again as that cannon is pointed in the air and fired, covering both her and Ruzica lightly in an attempt to protect them from magical effects, like their shadows have deepened.

"Shall we?"
</poem>

AS: Persona! Eveline Deschamps has used the Recovery skill Wideguard Protocol on Ruzica Crvena and Eveline Deschamps!
AS: Insight: Eveline Deschamps gains 1 Limit!

AS: Eveline Deschamps regains 10 SP from Invigorate!
AS: Take! Ruzica Crvena takes 0 Recovery healing from Eveline Deschamps's Wideguard Protocol.
AS: Eclipse added!
AS: Take! Eveline Deschamps takes 0 Recovery healing from Eveline Deschamps's Wideguard Protocol.
AS: Eclipse added!

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
Kanae, as it turns out, is a fairly expert combatant--just not used to fighting alongside others. She ''hasn't'' changed Personas, which as far as anyone can tell is normal and expected of her. Well, almost anybody. She has a gunblade (a sword with a gun in it--the blade is ruby-red and shines like gems) and a long, gray duster, and black hair kept loose. She wields Ice, Darkness, and Strike attacks with her Persona, a figure she calls 'Leshy'. The battle is going well at first. Except--

Above.

"Look out--"

Kanae dives to the side, rolling on the ground and getting back to one knee to look at--

Ah.

"It's you," Kanae says, and frowns. The currents of time...

But Kanae narrows her eyes when Eve comes out, too. And calls them greenhorns. "This isn't a game," Kanae responds sharply, in Japanese. "'Tests' are for school."

"Persona!" Leshy, tall and lanky, whirls into being oince again. Her long, tangled green hair hangs loose; her face is shrouded in shadow; her clothes are fur and tree bark.

"Strike now!"

The Persona rushes, and her hand grows larger, larger, larger as she ''slams'' her fist down towards Ushiwakamaru!"
</poem>

AS: Persona! Kanae Fuyuki has used the Strike skill Bash on Ruzica Crvena!

<Pose Tracker> Katsuko Yoshinaga has posed.
<poem>Something lurked in the shadows. Wreathed in the dark cast by the dead of night, it was lit only the split-second burst of erupting gunpowder, or the faint glimmer of light catching on its rifle's iron sights. One of its shots came from a nearby street corner, the gunfire ripping through the distant air like a thundercrack. Another rang out from behind another building entirely, closer to the taxi, but still far from arm's length. Its attacks were slow and methodical, spaced out by long stretches of seconds, themselves punctuated by earsplitting cracks of rifle fire.

The figure was Katsuko - though there was little sign to indicate it was her, cognitive filters aside. Her head was shrouded by a pitch-black hood woven from thick fabric, bathing her face in obscuring darkness. The only 'feature' that could be seen upon her visage was the bare-toothed grin of a silver skull, the mask covering the lower half of her face that the shadows of her hood could not reach. A great black coat tapered down across her body, the sleeves and shoulders ending in vicious edges and points, while the tail end itself billowed out like the wings of some swooping bird of prey. Fittingly, the fingers of her gloves ended in dagger-sharp points - talons, every one. Charcoal grey fabric clung to her legs, though that was covered to the knee by boots of darkened leather, their ends swooping and tapering into points in the same manner as her gloves and coat. Silver accented every article she wore, though it was most prominent on the torso, with long, sweeping, lines evoking the image of spread wings... or a hollow ribcage.

Obscured as her face was, and silent as she remained, it was difficult to tell that she was annoyed. But those that could see past the shadows she took cover in might have seen a tightening of her finger around the rifle's trigger, or heard a slight growl of consternation at the appearance of two less-than-friendly individuals.

"No. Hunt's not over yet. I think we just have a new target." She wasn't sure if anybody could hear her. Katsuko didn't care much if they did. "Reveal yourself, Edmond Dantes."
Another figure emerged from the dark. Face masked with damaged - yet polished - iron, the dark smoke that seeped from it obscured the long, night-black tailcoat, as well as its blood-red waistcoat. At her command, the ghostly figure extended its palm towards Katsuko, imbuing her with the strength of its resolve, while she focussed in on the one that had stolen her prize, and whatever information she could have gleaned from it.

Her target came into view. Without a scope, she needed to wait for the dust to settle, and to creep into an angle that allowed a better view of it. Metal glinted in what dim light could reach the position she held behind a thick-trunked tree, but despite the target being in view, she did not pull the trigger. Instead, she uttered only a single word.
"Ryuzaki...?"

</poem>
AS: Counter Neutral! Ruzica Crvena takes 56 Strike damage from Kanae Fuyuki's Bash. Critical Hit! Resist!
AS: COUNTER! Kanae Fuyuki takes 66 Light damage in return for her attack! Weak!
AS: Persona! Katsuko Yoshinaga has used the Recovery skill Unfaltering Resolve on Katsuko Yoshinaga!
AS: Katsuko Yoshinaga regains 5 HP from Regenerate! and 6 SP from Invigorate!
AS: Take! Katsuko Yoshinaga takes 0 Recovery healing from Katsuko Yoshinaga's Unfaltering Resolve.
AS: Atk_Up and Crt_Up added!
AS: Moriko Kumamoto has readied for combat as Otohime Gitsune! She is now fully healed!

<Pose Tracker> Yua Ooshiro has posed.
<poem>
OST: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTRgr9IWLnY Yuki Kajiura - Mezame
�

The Cursed Bride, Yumi, was not fighting the Cursed Taxi.

No: she is here to observe it. There is a Power that Dwells which wishes to know the truth of it; how it may be used.

She does not make a move to intervene, to save them from the choking Haze. She Shrouds herself and her Knight, until --

-- well, until said Knight has to deal with the wheel of that taxi as it careens towards their hiding place before it can strike the Bride in her cage.

And behind her veils, Yumi's eyes -- two, count 'em, the left blazing in red flames visible ''through'' those veils -- narrow, as the Hunter injects her silver.

"Do you see?" She wonders, melodically. "Do you see? Come, come. Closer, yet closer. I cannot see --"

Gretchen fades, for a moment, as the Bride steps forward --

-- and she does not fit the ''vibe,'' when she emerges from shadows which were deeper than they seemed.

In grey body armour which is draped over a grey wedding dress, her face veiled with fascinators and wedding veils, the Bride lifts a hand, both covered to the elbows in long dark gloves. Her exposed skin is tawny-dark; her lips are painted crimson, though nothing above her cheeks can be made out, beyond that burning left eye. Between her long fingers, she cradles an Evoker -- larger and heavier than the ones SEES wields, a ''Revolver'' of a beast whose weight she evidently feels.

"You are new," she says, and does not unveil herself.

Her identity is Shrouded, too.

"Speak existence into the sparkling river and burn."

She lifts the Evoker to her head, to her eye, and fires: "Gretchen!"

As that massive masked woman in white forms up again, around her, as she comes to a stop behind the others. Jail bars are driven through her arms; when she clasps them in front of her, the Bride is thus captured, sheltered with Gretchen's beautiful jewels.

"Tell me the truth," she demands, as two faces move in concert to look to Guro Rysserova and Eveline.

</poem>
AS: Persona! Yua Ooshiro has used the Almighty skill Full Analysis on Eveline Deschamps!
AS: Take! Eveline Deschamps takes 0 Almighty damage from Yua Ooshiro's Full Analysis.
AS: Yua Ooshiro's Strength Scan! Eveline Deschamps resists Fire!
AS: Yua Ooshiro's Weakness Scan! Eveline Deschamps is weak against Light!
AS: Yua Ooshiro's Support Scan! Eveline Deschamps has passive skills Break Limit, Heavy Weapon, Invigorate 3, Peerless
Skill, Sneak Guide, and Weapon Specialist!

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> IN
POINT
OF
FACT

So-young Park had NOT been in pursuit of the elusive Cursed Taxi Rumour Demon. Sometimes she just wants to go explore Sumaru of an evening! Sometimes she's just out a little too late and a little too tired and she's not checking her watch well enough! Sometimes she'll walk out of a kareoke booth and step up to a taxi rank just in time for the world to distort and a Kansai skeleton to address her out of the blue.

"I'm not trying to get in the way of your business! I'm literally looking for a taxi home! Are you seriously going to tell me Shibuya nightlife doesn't count as an otherworldly realm?" So-young manages to huff before the battle is joined, because when your choices boil down to 'find a way to burn an hour of time in the Dark Hour away from home or the Cardboard Dragon' the conductor is honestly prepared to try her luck with the demonic hell taxi.

At least she's out in the open rather than stuck inside for this, and it gives Icarus a chance to properly soar after the taxi. The real advantage here is that So-young didn't really ask for this fight and doesn't... really... mind... if she's not the one to resolve this rumour. She's not out for glory or for principles here, and this frees her up for what can only be described as a very obnoxious set of tactics, repeatedly breaking off from the battle entirely and leaving it up to other people only to circle around and conduct a surprise attack from an odd angle.

That is until a sudden impact throws Icarus aside, the shockwave alone nearly buffeting the spindly ornithopter shape - and more importantly its rider - into the side of an office building. Not possessed of battle-hardened instincts, So-young initially lets her Persona wink out as she dusts herself off, her eyebrows raised as she looks up with a faint glimmer of recognition. "My word," she says after a long moment, and after the wheel has taken the dramatic chance to bobble slowly past her in the silence. She sounds genuinely impressed, like a cool idea has just been unlocked in the plethora of dangerous Icarus actions available to her. "I cannot say I have ever thought of doing _that_."

So-young is not all that great at faces and has only met them quite literally in passing, so it still takes her a moment to place Ruzica at first - and it's only when she spots Eveline that recognition clicks. "Oh, good evening. What a small world. Sumaru is quite a distance to come, isn't it? Thank you for the other night," she adds pleasantly. "I shall certainly have to come... back... again."

It finally filters through that the fight isn't over yet - that it's actually just expanded in scope - and the musician sags her shoulders for a moment. "You know, I really was just hoping to try to find my way home rather than get embroiled in all of this," she positively whines, but... there is a thoughtful frown on her face. She's all too aware that she's still very much a neophyte when it comes to the Dark Hour, and it's pretty rare to find someone willing to just fight without having to worry about shadowy conspiracies or deadly businessmen or just plain demons.

Heaving a theatrical sigh, So-young straightens up to her full height. The way the syringe plunges into Ruzica's neck makes her grimace, but she's getting worryingly used to seeing teenagers maul themselves in the head and neck area for the sake of power. That thought could really use some unpacking later.

"I'd better get a free drink if I win," she decides, blue light expanding around her as the form of Icarus twists around her protectively in a way that a spindly wooden-and-linen flying device absolutely should not be able to do. There's an odd mechanical version of a bird's cry, and Icarus soars up into the skies once more, a propelling wind at the backs of those who were fighting the taxi. It focuses on Kanae in particular - if only because Kanae has a big sword and seems most prepared to use it. Sometimes the simplest tactics are the best.
</poem>

AS: Persona! So-young Park has used the Almighty skill Sforzando on Kanae Fuyuki, Tamaki Uchida, Katsuko Yoshinaga, and
So-young Park!
AS: Support: So-young Park gains 1 Limit!
AS: So-young Park regains 3 SP from Invigorate!
AS: Take! So-young Park takes 0 Almighty damage from So-young Park's Sforzando.
AS: Crt_Up added!
AS: So-young Park spends Limit on Shift! Kanae Fuyuki can use another Weak skill this round! SP +8! Healed 20!
AS: Take! Kanae Fuyuki takes 0 Almighty damage from So-young Park's Sforzando.
AS: Crt_Up added!
AS: Take! Katsuko Yoshinaga takes 0 Almighty damage from So-young Park's Sforzando.
AS: Crt_Up added!

<Pose Tracker> Tamaki Uchida has posed.
<poem>
The Kuzunoha Detective Agency often acts as an intermediary between clients plagued by Rumor Demons come to life and Persona-users who would like to take it down and provide some proof of it in return for a fee. As one of the Agency's employees, Tamaki's the one who Ruzica had ''asked'' about the Cursed Taxi in the first place. It's entirely possible that the others present had also learned of the Demon from Tamaki or Chief Todoroki.

While she ''normally'' doesn't go out on these Rumor Demon ventures herself, this time she had even offered to help tonight, just for the chance to shake off the rust that had accumulated over her skills over the last several years. She lays no claim to any of the reward money -- that may be a conflict of interest, and this is strictly an opportunity for her to practice some old and new abilities alike.

The Dark Hour arrives. Tamaki grows anxious, seeing as how there are several other Persona-users, but no sight of Ruzica. As the taxi arrives, her heart grows heavy, and she sighs and utters, "Let's go, then."

She remains on the back line and pulls out a folder from the bag she carries at her side and flips to a page: all of the details that the client has relayed to the Agency about the taxi. She reads aloud from it, informing the others of its capabilities: "A Demon borne from the all-too-common feeling of burnout and overwork by the residents of Sumaru City, the tale goes that this man had no choice but to continue working even after his death. Be mindful of its exhaust fumes and high mobility. Expect blunt and electrical damage. And I hardly need to warn you about the teeth; its bite is certainly much worse than its bark -- or its honk, as it were."

She snaps her binder shut and returns it to her bag before she brandishes her practice sabre, standing ready for the Cursed Taxi, Kansai accent and all, right up to the 'What in tarnation?' --

''THOOM.''

"Ah!" -- the surprise and force of the impact causes a wide-eyed Tamaki to lose her grip on the blade and scramble for several moments to keep from dropping it to the ground.

At first, she looks to this newcomer with trepidation ... but then, she sees that it's Ruzica, and the burden on her heart earlier lifts entirely, giving way to elation instead! Rather than return to a fighting stance, she waves, "Heyyy! You made it!"

Knowing what she does of her situation, Tamaki's inclined to just let Ruzica have the reward money, but before she gets into any further dispute of who has the true claim to it...

Ruzica, joined by Eve ("Nice to see you again, too!"), turn to the assembled group and jointly offer them a challenge.

Tamaki's smile fades as she looks up in contemplation to consider this new offer (as well as Ruzica's words regarding the 'currents of time'). Her grin shortly returns as she snaps her fingers and points at the adoptive-daugher-mother pair. "Why the hell not?"

The game keeps changing and evolving, as she's often said. This sudden change in circumstances is no different -- and is in fact more in line with what Tamaki's overall goal is ''with'' her practice.

Tamaki pulls out a binder again, and peruses its contents. While she has no entry on Ruzica nor her Persona, surely there's something ''similar'' that she's run into before that she can apply to this current situation ...
</poem>

AS: Take! Tamaki Uchida takes 0 Almighty damage from So-young Park's Sforzando.
AS: Crt_Up added!
AS: Persona! Tamaki Uchida has used the Almighty skill Cross-Reference on Ruzica Crvena!

AS: Take! Ruzica Crvena takes 0 Almighty damage from Tamaki Uchida's Cross-Reference.
AS: Tamaki Uchida's Weakness Scan! Ruzica Crvena is weak against Dark!
AS: Tamaki Uchida's Support Scan! Ruzica Crvena has passive skills Apt Pupil, Break Limit, Heavy Weapon, Light Amp,
Light Boost, Light Riposte, Peerless Skill, and Skill Card Affinity!

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
Beside the cursed bride, a figure in all black awaits, with a rapier and a large gray evoker on her hip and leg. If one looks closely they may recognize it as a black fencing suit and mask.

Wyhen that wheel comes careening for them she blitzes forward, her rapier flashing in the warped light of the Dark Hour as she slices cleanly through the tire, both halfs diverting to either side of her.

... And well away from the bride. She drops her weapon to her side as she stands upright again, then looks back as Yua--'Yumi'--steps forward to engage with Eve and her Persona. "... as you wish." is all she says to acknowledge her wish to engage.

In a smooth motion she pulls her Evoker, a heavy dark grey revolver and puts it to her head. Brokena glass and blue flame swirl around her and tqke the shape of an androgynous figure, glad in a red leather straightjacket with golden studs and the arms left unbound. In one hand, through the flapping excess sleeve lenth it cluthes a chipped rapier, and a tattered, wide-brimmed hat.

She holds her rapier up to touch blades with her Persona, a flurry of winds travellling from the latter's blade to the former, and then the User and Persona charge in to slash at Eve in tandem.
</poem>

AS: Tandem! Remi Ryuuja has used the Wind skill Blastbrand on Eveline Deschamps! 3 Hits!
AS: Block Worst! Eveline Deschamps takes 35 Wind damage from Remi Ryuuja's Blastbrand.
AS: Block Worst! Eveline Deschamps takes 44 Wind damage from Remi Ryuuja's Blastbrand. Critical Hit!
AS: Block Worst! Eveline Deschamps takes 44 Wind damage from Remi Ryuuja's Blastbrand. Critical Hit!

<Pose Tracker> Moriko Kumamoto has posed.
<poem>Moriko has distinctly chosen to ignore the, as she thinks it, exaggerated accent she shares with the skeleton driver. Her drawl's not that bad. Is it?

Not that it matters. She hadn't been paying attention to the time and was once again doing the midnight hour walk. Pushing a bike along and trying to avoid random encounters. The slow walk sort of helps. This means she's got her leathers on and the helmet is slung over the handlebars as she mutters, grumbles and otherwise makes it clear she's made a mistake

That she stumbled across the rumor, leaving her standing there somewhat slackjawed was just an unhappy coincidence.

She had been too late to really help with the fight. Having been mid-kickstanding her bike when it broke out. And ended. Her eyes had followed one of the errant hubcaps on its attempt at reaching the atmosphere.

She at least does recognize someone as she approaches, pulling a folding polearm from her saddlebag. Three flicks, then she slots the head in with a pin.

She is once again reminded she should really just rely on her gloves.

Later.

"Game store, music and random fights? You've got some talents." The unintentionally scowling young woman calls out to So-Young. Her tone doesn't match the attempted flippancy. Whincing even at the use of an injector.

"Huh. Tengu." She murmurs as she slips her evoker from a hiding place in the biker jacket. She doesn't lift it right away. Looking between the others present. Normally she's not at all worried about picking a random fight, but with personas, the dark hour and the fact that she has sort of stumbled in back asswards has her hesitating for just a moment.

The evoker is held to her head with the sound of another firing off, "Well. Nothing for it."

"I don't really sound like that do I?" She asks, before pulling the trigger with the evoker just under her jaw where her helmet would have left her exposed if she were still wearing it. "Persona!" Head jerking as Otohime Gitsune appears, a nine tailed fox in ceremonial garb appears behind her. Watching, motes of light surrounding the figure for a moment!
</poem>

AS: Persona! Moriko Kumamoto has used the Almighty skill Tarunda on Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Take! Ruzica Crvena takes 0 Almighty damage from Moriko Kumamoto's Tarunda.
AS: Atk_Dn added!

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
Eve compliments Ruzica on her work -- there's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it widening of eyes from them, but otherwise, nothing. Eve knows how much of this Hunter's expressions come in her eyes, than anywhere else, however.

''Hunt authorized.''

Guro Rysserova's shroud coalesces around Ruzica's body, and for a moment, her shadow is cast even deeper, causing those gleaming eyes to glow even brighter. "Strategic level confirmed..." intones Ruzica, as if the blessing and authorisation from Eve has conveyed a whole suite of instructions and recommendations on some level unspoken.

"Moving to tactical level combat."

BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v66p1JS2QXs
�

Kanae Fuyuki identifies Ruzica.

"Kanae Fuyuki..." Ruzica emotionlessly responds in turn, though her eyes are drawn to the gray-dustered Hunter. Leshy is there, as she's undoubtedly seen before in the hunt of the Carbuncle months prior -- but now, she gets to test... No, she's not testing Kanae. She's witnessing her strength of will and heart.

Leshy erupts into being and SLAMS against Ushiwakamaru, sending the Hunter skidding back against hard Yumezaki pavement -- the Tengu Persona gleams and reflects light back upon the wirey figure, and Ruzica presses this advantage even as she's driven back by sending a pair of thin silver knives towards Kanae's Persona.

"Your dream... will I witness a glimpse of it tonight? Show me..."

Ruzica doesn't recognise Katsuko behind the dark hood and the silver skull mask, but she does gaze towards where she's perched in the shadows, as if her light will blot and crease out every instance of darkness around her. The emergence of Edmond Dantes makes it only more cognisant -- and Ruzica takes in that similarly masked figure, similarly blood red and jet-black...

''Ryuzaki...?''

"..."

Ruzica's face isn't so different that it's impossible to discern her as Ryuzaki. But where Ryuzaki wears a hat and keeps his hair up -- and more importantly, has a softer countenance, there's nothing but instinct and cold tactics behind those golden eyes.

"Long-range Persona User identified."

So-young seems to recognise them more through Eve than Ruzica herself, which is fair. She's identifying her tactics rapidly, the way she glides on her Persona.

"Confirmed... high mobility and unimpeded flight.
Support-type Persona User capacity identified...
Continuing on tactics level two."

Suddenly, however, Katsuko and So-young both are encroached on by Ushiwakamaru, who has flown away from Ruzica to flap its wings mightily, to try to flush them out of her hiding spot and aerial superiority with powerful, powerful gusts of wind!

Within the darkness, behind the Shroud, is Yumi, who wonders if Ruzica sees as she emerges outward. They are identified as newcomers, and her words seem cryptic... and yet Ruzica seems to react as if she's aware, as someone who's also speaking rather cryptically tonight.

"You, too, are a captive of time..." Ruzica murmurs, though it seems that the Cursed Bride has more of an interest in Eveline.

Tamaki is present, with a sabre in hand. At first, there's a smile on her face, but it fades upon Ruzica's request to show her her strength of heart. And that smile is replaced-- with a grin. Yes... that conviction to rise up to the challenge, too, is a strength.

But Tamaki doesn't launch on the attack like she might have anticipated -- instead, she draws upon that binder to study her, something that has her narrowing her eyes in turn. Battles are won and lost through information, it's true... and it seems that Tamaki is quite the studious one.

And a veteran like Tamaki has seen Tengu demons before, hasn't she? From the lowly Koppa Tengu, to the higher-ranked Kurama Tengu (Ryuzaki Kurama, an association comes to mind), but the name she spelled out, 'Ushiwakamaru', is not strictly a tengu of myth, per se, but a famed folklore hero who reputedly studied from the Tengu...

"Melee-distance target sighted... outranging," Ruzica announces, suddenly gliding across battlefield space with Ushiwakamaru's assistance to throw more of those silvered knives of hers towards Tamaki, evidently expecting her to show off her mettle with that steel by deflecting her knives.

Remi's dark figure is spotted in the distance -- as well as the way she utilises an Evoker, something Ruzica had heard from Isabeau Fontaine prior, but has not witnessed until now. Though Remi -- Tsurugi -- is more distant, she gets another Evoker opponent closer to her: Moriko.

Gold eyes witness the biker as she pulls on her Evoker, to summon Otohime Gitsune.

"Evoker-type Persona User confirmed..."

Even as the nine-tailed fox surrounds Ushiwakamaru in light and seems to sap at his strength. Ruzica diligently throws more knives as she repositions, deft and agile and showing how her Persona seems to capture her in a light harness that allows her to glide, even as the damnable tengu shoves MORE corn into his face!!

"More. Show me more...
The minute-hand moves... and the hour-hand judges.
The toll of the bell... is a sound that smiles upon no one."

</poem>

AS: Persona! Ruzica Crvena has used the Almighty skill My Favourite Tetracorn! on Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Take! Ruzica Crvena takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's My Favourite Tetracorn!.
AS: Reflect_Phys added!

AS: Ruzica Crvena spends Limit on Broad!

AS: Weapon! Ruzica Crvena has used the Pierce skill Twosome Time on Kanae Fuyuki, Tamaki Uchida, and Moriko Kumamoto! 2
Hits!
AS: Persona! Ruzica Crvena has used the Almighty skill Tengu's Strategem on Katsuko Yoshinaga and So-young Park!
AS: Ruzica Crvena spends Limit on Exploit! Ruzica Crvena can use another Weak skill this round!

AS: Persona! Ruzica Crvena has used the Almighty skill Moonlit Sasanqua on Katsuko Yoshinaga, So-young Park, Tamaki
Uchida, and Moriko Kumamoto!
AS: Ruzica Crvena: Broad removed!
AS: Block Best! Kanae Fuyuki takes 17 Pierce damage from Ruzica Crvena's Twosome Time.
AS: Panic added!
AS: Block Worst! Kanae Fuyuki takes 37 Pierce damage from Ruzica Crvena's Twosome Time. Critical Hit!
AS: Take! So-young Park takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's Tengu's Strategem.
AS: Charm and Poison added!
AS: Take! So-young Park takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's Moonlit Sasanqua.
AS: Light_Break added!

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>Ruzica's eyes widen. Eve simply nods to her, before turning back.

"Is a hunt never sport?" Eve responds to Kanae instantly, measured and controlled in tone. "Surely, you cannot see everything about the supernatural as sheer business? Or do you find other ways to practice against human opponents?"

So-young wants a free drink if she wins. Surprisingly, Eve hears this. "Very well," she says.

She may have just done the mental calculus that it's better to keep one of the Persona Users in their good graces at the cost of a glass of booze.

Soon, Yumi arrives with a guest. As she peers into Eve with Gretchen's power, she is told the truth.

To feel Eveline Deschamps is to observe a veteran. She smells of fire and oil, a finely tuned engine that runs the whole ship, so to speak, and she tastes of black coffee and lavender, bitter and pleasantly delicate at different times. She is marred with experience, a sight of phantasmal scars not completely healed, even if her true body bears few to none. The sound of a metronome, perfectly in sync, perfectly in control, but messing up the tempo if disrupted, echoes through the ears.

The feeling is one of confidence and surety. She is toying with everyone here, in a way, because she sees the experience gap as a gulf. Even if they win... they cannot match up truly at this time in their lives. She is in total sync with her Persona - the scents, the sights, the taste, are all identical.

Because Eve has been doing this longer than some of them have been alive.

The light burns away that surety. But the fire cannot mar the engine, it only fuels it.

"Activating Truesight Protocol," Eve says as she's felt, that thermal visor scanning over Yumi in turn. Another navigator...

"If you want my truth... I but simply want to know why you hunt."

The visor blinks, and suddenly, Yumi is Seen, as Guro Rysserova searches for an answer to a question:

How does this bride relate to violence? How do her instincts prepare her for the hunt? The whys will be found there.

As she scans that, Remi has the perfect opening to come in with a wind-driven double slash. Eve is distracted only slightly filtering the data, as suddenly, that rifle disappears...

And a cane manifests into her hand, whipping outwards in an attempt to diffuse the blow of the blade. The first slash is deflected with skill, but it's not clearly the top of her game, even as the experience and reaction speed is clear. The second pushes her guard back, forcing her lightly on the defensive, but it still does not make a clean hit, and neither does the third.

In turn, Eve smiles. "And you... good footwork. You're trained with the blade. But that won't be enough."

"Guro Rysserova, Enhancement Protocol."

The Persona fires the small cannon into the air again, covering Ruzica and Eve with bolstering buffs in the form of specks of light that flicker downwards onto them and their Personas, as Eve suddenly flickers her step forwards...

The cane is swung out, and in a flash, it's transformed. A bladed whip goes flying forward, as that same specks of light touch onto it and *ignite* into flames, two burning lashes aiming for Remi's center of mass!

Meanwhile, she's keeping Ruzica's own measures of their foes in mind. Evoker-users, long range, short range... good to know all of this for the future.
</poem>

AS: Persona! Eveline Deschamps has used the Almighty skill Truesight Protocol on Yua Ooshiro!
AS: Insight: Eveline Deschamps gains 1 Limit!
AS: Eveline Deschamps spends Limit on Exploit! Eveline Deschamps can use another Weak skill this round!
AS: Persona! Eveline Deschamps has used the Recovery skill Enhancement Protocol on Eveline Deschamps and Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Take! Katsuko Yoshinaga takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's Tengu's Strategem.
AS: Charm added!
AS: Take! Eveline Deschamps takes 0 Recovery healing from Eveline Deschamps's Enhancement Protocol.
AS: Def_Up added!

AS: Take! Ruzica Crvena takes 0 Recovery healing from Eveline Deschamps's Enhancement Protocol.
AS: Crt_Up added!
AS: Take! Katsuko Yoshinaga takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's Moonlit Sasanqua.
AS: Light_Break added!
AS: Tandem! Eveline Deschamps has used the Fire skill Twice Burned on Remi Ryuuja! 2 Hits!
AS: Eveline Deschamps regains 10 SP from Invigorate!
AS: Take! Yua Ooshiro takes 0 Almighty damage from Eveline Deschamps's Truesight Protocol.
AS: Eveline Deschamps's Strength Scan! Yua Ooshiro resists Earth!
AS: Eveline Deschamps's Weakness Scan! Yua Ooshiro is weak against Light!
AS: Eveline Deschamps's Support Scan! Yua Ooshiro has passive skills Explode Boost, Jamming, Mind Up, Nerve Up, Peerless
Skill, and Skill Card Affinity!
AS: Nerve Up! Tamaki Uchida's SP +8!
AS: Block Best! Tamaki Uchida takes 21 Pierce damage from Ruzica Crvena's Twosome Time.
AS: Panic added!
AS: Block Best! Tamaki Uchida takes 21 Pierce damage from Ruzica Crvena's Twosome Time.
AS: Panic added!
AS: Take! Tamaki Uchida takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's Moonlit Sasanqua.
AS: Light_Break added!

AS: Avoid Worst! Moriko Kumamoto takes 56 Pierce damage from Ruzica Crvena's Twosome Time. Critical Hit!
AS: Panic added!
AS: Avoid Worst! Moriko Kumamoto takes 41 Pierce damage from Ruzica Crvena's Twosome Time.
AS: Take! Moriko Kumamoto takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's Moonlit Sasanqua.
AS: Light_Break added!

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
Kanae was definitely on the front line. And To Tamaki she'd said, "Hey, thanks." It's nice to know things!

And...If someone wants to mask who they are, that doesn't bother Kanae. She's willing enough to fight alongside Katsuko, though she doesn't recognize her. She is... somewhat more dubious about the creepy Bride who speaks in riddles, turning just briefly to look askance at Yua.

"What the...?" Is it about her words, or about her Evoker?

She focuses on the fight. Wind propels her forward, and So-young is responsible--Kanae takes advantage of the opportunity.

But she offers for Moriko, "No, your accent's a lot less exaggerated. It's normal."

"Hmph," Kanae says to Eve. "I guess." A shrug. "But we ''were'' hunting fine before you two showed up."

Ruzica emotionalessly speaks her name. "That's the plan," she says to Ruzica, a little more engaged. A free drink, though? "...I want a snack when we win."

Knives to her Persona--they hit, and while she's able to knock the first out of the air with a swipe of her hand, the second drives into bark, and Kanae jerks in pain. "Gh--"

Then she narrows her eyes. "So, you've got my weakness this time, huh?"

"Well..."

She lifts up her hand, and in it is a vial of gold--she ''crushes'' it, sending glitterdust shining everywhere. "KINNARA!"

A shattering of glass and a blue aura, and a ''different''' Persona emerges--a man with a horse head and a lyre. "Heal us!"

Shining light settles over the others beside Kanae, as green sparkles shine at Kanae herself.

"Hmph. I'm not done yet."
</poem>

AS: Avoid Neutral! Remi Ryuuja takes 44 Fire damage from Eveline Deschamps's Twice Burned. Weak!
AS: Avoid Best! Remi Ryuuja takes 52 Fire damage from Eveline Deschamps's Twice Burned. Critical Hit! Weak!
AS: Persona! Kanae Fuyuki has used the Recovery skill Me Patra on Katsuko Yoshinaga, Moriko Kumamoto, Tamaki Uchida, and
So-young Park!
AS: Kanae Fuyuki takes 60 damage from Panic!
AS: Support: Kanae Fuyuki gains 1 Limit!
AS: Persona! Kanae Fuyuki has used the Recovery skill Diarama on Kanae Fuyuki!
AS: Take! Kanae Fuyuki takes 112 Recovery healing from Kanae Fuyuki's Diarama.
AS: Take! Katsuko Yoshinaga takes 0 Recovery healing from Kanae Fuyuki's Me Patra.
AS: Charm removed!

<Pose Tracker> Yua Ooshiro has posed.
<poem>
"Time and tense and tensile strength," Yumi advises Ruzica, in turn.

And Yumi has fought for decades, now. There is oil in her fingertips and coffee on her tongue -- as, distantly, Yua's stomach roils from such an unpleasant existence -- and it hurts to move, a hand to a body entire. Do not gaze upon these scars; shine no light upon them.

"She will breathe fire, but flee from the light it casts," Yumi advises Remi -- and, coincidentally, the people around her. "Beware! The woman has breathed smoke until her lungs are choked and blackened. Heavy falls the axe, and often. Yet, her eyes unstung --"

And Yumi -- Yua -- is in the crosshairs of her Truesight, now.

Yumi's identity is not hidden by the Will of Rebellion, but by the Navigator's arts; her secrets have never been as impentrable as the Phantom Thieves who act against her masters. The Hunting Eve has already done has equipped her for this moment --

-- as Guro Rysserova looks past the veils --

-- to find that same stagnant smell of dungeon stillwater, locked chthonic beneath the surface.

(And very clearly ''hidden.'' She does not wish to be known.)

Yumi -- Yua -- fears violence. She is frozen by it; terrified by it. So much violence has been wrought upon her body now that she bows at the mere suggestion, and it is only by the grace of self-preservation not ''entirely'' in touch with her fears that she is able to stand at all. It is ''why'' she stands in her cage. Those bars do not only restrict her.

They ''protect'' her.

(Yet still there is that sense of self-preservation, a touch disconnected, a little abstracted from her thoughts -- and it is stronger, now. She must protect herself, because she is not only protecting ''herself.'' No: she is with child.)

"Loading Poisma cartridge," Yumi reports, as she slides something ''like'' a bullet into something ''like'' a gun. She brings her Evoker to her eye, again: "Firing."

And a sickly green-purple hue shimmers over Gretchen's jewels, as she lifts a hand, and the smoke of Poisma erupts around Eveline and Guro Rysserova.

</poem>
AS: Persona! Yua Ooshiro has used the Almighty skill Poisma on Eveline Deschamps!
AS: Ruin: Yua Ooshiro gains 1 Limit!
AS: Take! So-young Park takes 0 Recovery healing from Kanae Fuyuki's Me Patra.
AS: Charm and Poison removed!
AS: Take! Eveline Deschamps takes 0 Almighty damage from Yua Ooshiro's Poisma.
AS: Poison added!

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> It's something of a relief to see Tamaki here with them, because that means that So-young isn't the only adult in the (outdoors) room - and a professional at this, for that matter. For all her vanity and ironclad self-confidence, So-young does still very much appreciate having someone who actually knows the score around, and gives the other woman a quick nod as she falls easily into working around the battlefield as it stands, directing and conducting it - not in the way a Navigator would, but using Icarus' quick motions to try to guide the flow of the fight.

She has noticed the much more mysterious and shadowy side of the fight, which primarily seems to consist of sizing each other up, but... So-young can only frown to herself, keeping a faint eye in that direction. Some enemies are clearcut, and some enemies are here for the love of the fight, but she's still not sure what to make of the Bride and Knight, given the way they've positioned themselves in the past.

Remaining wary on that front, she instead levels a bright smile towards Moriko. "Now, to be fair, the games store is not at all mine. I just hang out there to be annoying to my sibling as often as possible. And I am not usually the sort to throw myself into a random Rumour, especially not when I would much rather be in my comfy bed an hour's train ride away, but here we are." Her tone absolutely matches her flippancy, which might be a bad sign for how lightly she's taking Ruzica.

She even gets the promise of a free drink, from the owner no less, and laughs brightly in response. "Ah, your service is impeccable. And thank you again for that night, as well--" she's about to say to Ruzica, when Ushiwakamaru suddenly shifts - taken by surprise, So-young hisses under her breath as she flings Icarus to one side, but there's simply no escaping the range and speed of the Persona. Whatever pain she's expecting doesn't come, but instead she can feel her connection to her Persona almost seem to weaken and slow, as if she's directing it through a layer of treacle.

She grounds herself quickly in a brief burst of common sense, staggering forwards two steps as Icarus does its best to take flight again. The feeling passes quickly as Kanae's healing washes over her, but-- in some ways, that brief burst of disconnect is one of the more disorienting things she's experienced since starting all of this Dark Hour nonsense. So-young prides herself on knowing exactly who she is and what she wants to do, and targeting both of those things at once has somewhat dislodged her.

Sucking in a breath, she shakes her head clear, then lifts up. "Nonsense. Even the toll of a bell can lead a good dance," she proclaims as she does her best to recover into a self-assured smile. With the sudden regaining of its acceleration, Icarus swoops past Ushiwakamaru in a flurry of wings, one set mechanical and the other distinctly not.
</poem>

AS: Persona! So-young Park has used the Wind skill Rondo on Ruzica Crvena! 2 Hits!
AS: So-young Park regains 3 SP from Invigorate!
AS: Counter Best! Ruzica Crvena takes 19 Wind damage from So-young Park's Rondo.
AS: Haze added!
AS: COUNTER! Reflect Magic! So-young Park takes 80 Light damage in return for her attack! Weak!
AS: Counter Best! Ruzica Crvena takes 19 Wind damage from So-young Park's Rondo.
AS: Haze added!
AS: COUNTER! Reflect Magic! So-young Park takes 80 Light damage in return for her attack! Weak!

<Pose Tracker> Katsuko Yoshinaga has posed.
<poem>Katsuko's eyes narrowed at the Persona user, and cursed silently at herself for speaking the name so brazenly. It was Ryuzaki there before her - she was certain of it. Perhaps the darkness obscured some features, and perhaps there was nothing but cold lethality behind those eyes, but she knew that face. Katsuko focussed her vision, trying to - in that split second - examine them and piece together clues on what was going on. But before she could manage to evaluate anything more than the surface level details, Ushiwakamaru set upon her, and it was all she could do to throw herself out of harm's way.

It was not enough to mitigate the assault on her senses, however. Fog clouded her mind, and suddenly, her weapon grew heavy in her hands. She lifted it, hands trembling as if drawn on puppet strings, yet she could not bring herself to stop them. The barrel drifted, the sights shook, and then... nothing. The fog lifted, and Katsuko ducked back behind cover, immediately retreating behind a nearby car to get her bearings. She'd been afflicted by something, then cured just as quickly. More people piled into the scene, others lifted strange weapons to their heads... All of it was information she might have been able to digest in isolation, but together?

She shook her head. She could focus on it later. She took a breath in, and filed the information away, shutting the door on it and making a note to review it later. There were more pertinent matters to focus on. Her first act was to glance towards Kanae. She did not recognise her - hardly surprising, given they had never met in the mundane world either, but that did not lessen her gratitude. A quick, curt, nod was given by way of acknowledgement, followed by a "Thank you" spoken in a matching tone. Then, with that newfound clarity of mind, Katsuko focussed in on her mark once again.

Katsuko lay the rifle upon the car's hood, and levelled it against Ruzica. Her finger squeezed - but did not go all the way. Katsuko, at the very last moment, hesitated. She would not shoot her. She could not. There were too many distractions, and too much movement, for Katsuko to deal with. She was no marksman, and needed to take a more tactical approach than simply throwing bullets at the problem.
"Languish." She commanded, and with a rising hand, Edmond Dantes summoned the very spirit of the Chateau D'If from the ground.

A great slab of stone was drawn upwards, while chains rattled furiously from its sides. Like lunging vipers, they struck at Ruzica, twisting and lashing at their target. Hunters had snares to bind their prey, and this was Katsuko's. Dark metal and stone in the bleakest shade of grey, all seeking to tie down Ruzica and make her an easier target.

Assuming Kanae to be on her side - or, at least, willing to ally with her for the duration of the fight - Katsuko spoke to her in a low and stern voice.
"Who're the others?" She asked, tilting her head briefly to those that had arrived after Ruzica and Eveline. "I didn't see them come in with us." The question was for anyone who could hear it, of course. If there was information to be gleaned, she wanted it.
</poem>

AS: Persona! Katsuko Yoshinaga has used the Earth skill Iron and Stone on Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Katsuko Yoshinaga regains 5 HP from Regenerate! and 6 SP from Invigorate!
AS: Take! Ruzica Crvena takes 0 Earth damage from Katsuko Yoshinaga's Iron and Stone.
AS: Bind added! Haze removed! Explosion! 50 damage!

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
When Eve got her scent at the trivia night, it was steel, old paper, and ink. Perhaps suggesting an old book about an adventure, or a stage play, or something similar, depending on how one wants to interpret it.

''Tonight'', however, it is overwhelmingly the steel.

Eve has many years on Tsurugi, but Tsurugi has a few of her own, and she and her Persona seem to work in tandem quite handily, working with coordination. She tilts her head as Eve asseses her skill. 'It won't be enough.' "... we'll see," is her only reply, flat and cold and stoic.

Like even if it wouldn't be enough, it wouldn't stop her from going all out.

But the cane becomes a whip, and Tsurugi demonstrates more of that footwork, twisting her body to the side with practiced ease, a stoic grunt as the center of mass hit becomes a glancing one to her side. She uses her momentum to keep moving and avoid the worst of the second stgrike, though the flames of the strike still score a hit.

She draws back after the exchange, and despite the injury, doesn't seem to be in much pain. But when Yumi advises her on what she's learned, Tsurugi turns her head slightly and gives a nod. "... Acknowledged."

If Tsurugi happens to be positioned between Yumi and Eve it is surely a coincidence. She raises a hand towards Eve. "If flames will not touch you, then we shall test you against the storm. Garula!"

Behind her, La Maupin raises her chipped blade and slashes at the air, the motion sturring up a powerful gale of winds centered on the enemy navigator.
</poem>

AS: Persona! Remi Ryuuja has used the Wind skill Garula on Eveline Deschamps!
AS: Take! Moriko Kumamoto takes 0 Recovery healing from Kanae Fuyuki's Me Patra.
AS: Block Neutral! Eveline Deschamps takes 65 Wind damage from Remi Ryuuja's Garula. Critical Hit!
AS: Haze added!

<Pose Tracker> Moriko Kumamoto has posed.
<poem>"Dreams?" She mutters, mostly to herself. That's an odd thing to- She trails off on that thought. She's fighting in frozen time with a gun to her head. Basically. What's weirder than that?

She nods to Kanae and mutters, "Hard to tell your own accent!" And she's probably heard similar jokes enough that it might have been a sticking point!

She brings her polearm around in both hands, ready to try and use it even. "Yeah. That sounds about right." She calls when, well called out.

Not that she's got much else to offer there. Especially as she tries to hurriedly, and fails to get out of the way of the quick attacks from Ruzica. Staggering back and about landing on her backside, caught last moment by planting the butt of her spear in the ground and hanging on.

"Thanks" She offers to Kanae and her assist, getting back up with some quick effort and both hands. "I wasn't even hunting. I was just caught out without the magic bike."

Now though. "Just be careful" Replying to So-Young, "Always when you think you've got the line." Loosening her death grip on the haft to pull her evoker on herself again. "Always preferred the starter whistle. Or shot." She admits. Pulling the trigger as she says it. "Otohime Gitsune!"

"Dunno if I have the best options here." She admits as the kitsune makes her presence, and disdain for the tengu stuffing its face known! Twisting around and pouncing forward. Creating a rough rumbling, then an earthen spike streaking towards Ruzica to slam out at the last moment.

"I thought Tengu had other.. quirks?" She's not sure. Her book learning lately has been trying to chase down her own particular persona!
</poem>

AS: Persona! Moriko Kumamoto has used the Earth skill Magna on Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Moriko Kumamoto takes 60 damage from Panic!
AS: Kanae Fuyuki spends Limit on Help Up! Panic removed from Tamaki Uchida!

AS: Counter Best! Ruzica Crvena takes 37 Earth damage from Moriko Kumamoto's Magna. Critical Hit!
AS: Bind added!
AS: COUNTER! Reflect Magic! Moriko Kumamoto takes 157 Light damage in return for her attack! Weak!

AS: Take! Tamaki Uchida takes 0 Recovery healing from Kanae Fuyuki's Me Patra.

<Pose Tracker> Tamaki Uchida has posed.
<poem>
Tamaki peruses her binder until she comes across one particular passage which garners her keen interest, causing her to press her face closer to the page with a raised eyebrow and widened eye to double-check its contents. She claps her free hand to her forehead, pulls back, and laughs jovially. "I see, I see! What curious insight." Tamaki briefly glances at Eveline before turning her attention to Ruzica and smiling intently at her. "You've studied under some particularly skilled tutors, I take it?"

Strictly speaking in a ''tactical'' manner, however, Ruzica and Ushiwakamaru strongly remind Tamaki of ''herself'' and Arianrhod. ... but she's keeping those cards close to her chest. "Make sure not to go hungry after going all-out tonight, okay?"

The Bride and her Knight arrive on the scene. As she recognizes Tsurugi from that dreadful night at the warehouse, Tamaki visibly JUMPS and points at her, sending her binder flying and skittering across the street. "YAAAH!" Her mind races: ''What is she doing here, not this again, why now of all times --''

-- she and this other woman instead turn their attention to Eveline. Relief floods her mind as she decides to not question this turn of events too closely and let them fight. She'll retrieve the binder later, but first, Ruzica just sent two knives flying her way. As Ruzica had predicted, she does block it with steel of her own, albeit it's not with her own practice sabre, but the larger blue-wreathed broadsword of the newly-manifested "Arianrhod!"

The physical damage is diverted, but ... she must have looked rather undignified in front of the pair of their adversaries. This also marks the second time that she's embarrassed herself before Eveline. Doubt and fear start to creep in at the corners of her mind, throwing Tamaki off her game as her mindset tumbles back into the desperation she had needed to survive some earlier times --

-- but Kanae switches Personas and shakes her out of that, returning her to a more steady state again. In return, she offers a bright smile and some advice: "You're very welcome, and thank you for the assist, as well! If you would like to turn the tables on her, she's vulnerable to darkness-aligned attacks. I believe she has my own offense entirely walled out."

Speaking of (skill) cards held close to her chest, then raises her sabre and points it at Ruzica, but flips it around to hold it more like a sceptre, prominently displaying the newly-added array of amber gemstones on its hilt and pommel. "Media!"
</poem>

AS: Persona! Tamaki Uchida has used the Recovery skill Media on Moriko Kumamoto, So-young Park, Kanae Fuyuki, and Tamaki
Uchida!
AS: Defense: Tamaki Uchida gains 1 Limit!
AS: Take! Tamaki Uchida takes 75 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Media.
AS: Take! Kanae Fuyuki takes 75 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Media.

AS: Take! Moriko Kumamoto takes 75 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Media.
AS: Take! So-young Park takes 75 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Media.
AS: Tamaki Uchida spends Limit on Help Up! Panic removed from Moriko Kumamoto!

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
Where Eveline Deschamps is a veteran, controlling the battlefield with vision and insight, Ruzica is very much an instinctual shadow over the battlefield, bearing the jet-black wings of Ushiwakamaru to grace her with agility to compliment her, so far, knife throws. She hasn't utilised that gunblade of hers yet... is she waiting for Kanae to engage?

Guro Rysserova once more blesses her -- through cannon fire -- a power that seems to burn within before seeping into Ushiwakamaru's form, and seemingly, silent instruction.

"... strategic protocol confirmed.
Moving to press the advantage."

Kanae tells Ruzica that that's certainly the plan. Ruzica doesn't immediately answer, but Kanae can tell there's a slight glint to her typically emotionless eyes that seems to approve. The young Hunter certainly seems on the back foot with Ruzica exploiting her weakness, but then--

''KINNARA!''

A second Persona emerges in a resplendent shower of Gold... "This power..." Ruzica remarks. It's like the power Laurent had, before he lost it, she's heard from Eveline and the others. Kanae's skillful healing threatens to undo the advantage she's inflicted on the other Persona Users, and also invigorates herself back into the fight.

"So you will not stop at one...
Perhaps... that's how a dream... should be.
Unbounded... and..."

Ruzica doesn't finish her ruminating sentence, because she disappears and reappears above Kanae in a sneaky little air trick, and suddenly angles her gunblade, Usumidori, down to strike Kinnara with a vicious helm-breaker slice. Her gaze is kept on her rival the entire time, trusting her to respond in kind, and she seems...

Pleased, somehow, even without a smile on her face. More alive than she was before.

Yumi's words seem to perplex Ruzica, who considers this for a time. "Tensed..." As in, upon the tensile strength of the cage... but also... the past tense. The present tense. The future tense. ... should it really be a pun that Ruzica takes away from this? That's what she seems to accept.

So-young bears a pride in herself that seems to intrigue Ruzica. There's no hesitation or uncertainty in her movements... even as she comes to a pass with Icarus in a flurry of wings, and the two winged beings end up in winged combat with exacting motion, each seeking to exceed the other as her Tengu Persona screeches and clashes with light once more.

"You would dance. Laugh... and grow merry...
Perhaps that is what it means to..."

Once more, she doesn't stop to answer, because Ruzica's opted to back Ushiwakamaru up by having it retreat at the same time she throws a small air raid of knives drawn from her thighs, each aimed towards Icarus proper, with more skill and elegance that's perhaps expected of a waitress, whether or not they're obsessed with snail facts or not. Thousand Blades!

Even in the vortex of combat, Ruzica's eye tracks the way the masked figure darts from one piece of cover to another -- this isn't someone who's deterred by a simple act of intimidation like before, with Ushiwakamaru's wind. But danger instincts tell her that she has something steeled against her, and she gazes, gazes across the field...

Somehow, fixated on Katsuko's eyes behind the mask.

The bullet doesn't come.

Instead, a great slab of stone roars upwards from Edmond Dantes, the masked Persona, and they lash and grasp and seek to draw her towards it -- and leash they do, dragging the airborne Hunter down towards the earth with the very fury hidden behind the iron mask.

"Ushiwakamaru..." she whispers again, and the Persona is once more beset, landing ontop of that car Katsuko's chosen for cover. Just as she might think she's about to get attacked, it raises its wing, which starts to glow -- and instead, it's more trickery from the winds as Ushiwakamaru forces a stronger gale to mess with the sniper's positioning.

It doesn't directly hurt Katsuko, though. Is Ruzica... returning the favour of not shooting her?

"..."

Ruzica witnesses Moriko's use of her Evoker with rapt attention once more, seemingly inquisitive as to the nature of that weapon. The fox is out once more, however, as Moriko doubts that she has the best options --

"... when at a disadvantage in battle... will your heart stand strong?"

Is Ruzica giving... advice? Or perhaps inquiring as to that strength of heart she seems to be so interested in. The earthen spikes streak towards Ruzica, forcing her to high time it upwards and yet-- it still slams against Ushiwakamaru and sends her against the passenger door of a nearby car. The magic gleam, however, is refracting the Earthen spell back as light viciously jet-streams towards Otohime Gitsune.

''I thought Tengu had other... quirks?''

"They often have... a magic fan," Ruzica points out, and indeed, Ushiwakamaru raises the same fan-like appendage to send gusts that impede Moriko and make it more difficult for her to approach and advance.

Tamaki's sudden yelping has Ruzica pausing and redoubling her look to the Knight and Bride, though it seems that she has it together enough to defend against her with--

Arianhrod.

The visage of the silver wheel is awe-inspiring indeed, with her silver armour, golden hair, and massive broadsword. It invigorates something in Ruzica, perhaps, as she is suddenly a dart across the battlefield, stingering in motion to thrust at the silver Persona with her gunblade at full strength--

"Your heart... is wavering...
This is not what I want to witness..."

--and then she pulls on the trigger, which causes Usumidori to BURST out with a small, localised explosion of pure light that recoils Ruzica backwards, where she alights upon her jet-black wings, gliding on a round trip in advantage to her Persona's mobility.

Tamaki's advice on not going hungry provokes a perhaps curious reaction from Ruzica, though. Instead of Ushiwakamaru's growling, it's instead her stomach that goes 'gruuuuu' now.

"Time... will wait for... burger..." she distractedly intones.

A pause.

"If it is... authorised..."

Please authorise burger time, Eveline Deschamps...

</poem>

AS: Ruzica Crvena spends Limit on Broad!

AS: Weapon! Ruzica Crvena has used the Slash skill Helmbreaker on Kanae Fuyuki!
AS: Pressure: Ruzica Crvena gains 1 Limit!
AS: Weapon! Ruzica Crvena has used the Pierce skill Rainstorm on So-young Park!
AS: Tandem! Ruzica Crvena has used the Light skill Full Moon Slash on Tamaki Uchida!
AS: Persona! Ruzica Crvena has used the Almighty skill Tengu's Maple Fan on Moriko Kumamoto and Katsuko Yoshinaga!
AS: Item! Ruzica Crvena has used the Dark skill But You Are Still Hungry on Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Ruzica Crvena: Bind and Broad removed!
AS: Block Worst! Ruzica Crvena takes 31 Dark damage from Ruzica Crvena's But You Are Still Hungry. Critical Hit!
Eclipsed!
AS: Eclipse removed!
AS: Counter Best! Kanae Fuyuki takes 29 Slash damage from Ruzica Crvena's Helmbreaker.
AS: COUNTER! Ruzica Crvena takes 45 Slash damage in return for her attack! Resist!
AS: Avoid Best! So-young Park takes 25 Pierce damage from Ruzica Crvena's Rainstorm.
AS: Take! Moriko Kumamoto takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's Tengu's Maple Fan.
AS: Atk_Dn and Crt_Dn added!
AS: Avoid Best! Tamaki Uchida takes 43 Light damage from Ruzica Crvena's Full Moon Slash.

AS: You now have a trigger set for 50% damage!
AS: Ruzica Crvena has set a trigger!

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
OPTIONAL REACTION TRIGGER UNLOCKED:

Remind Ruzica that she's hungry.
</poem>

AS: Take! Katsuko Yoshinaga takes 0 Almighty damage from Ruzica Crvena's Tengu's Maple Fan.
AS: Atk_Up and Crt_Up removed!

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>"Very well," Eve says to Kanae, same as she did So-Young, and leaves it at that.

Yumi is seen, and Eve takes it all in. An expectant mother who fears the violence... is this woman doing this of her own free will? Or is there a chain on her? This, too, is the woman who visited her bar before - the same scent is there.

"I see," Eve says, as the Poisma cloud is fired. She does not hold her breath - it's a spiritual infliction, not a physical one, after all, even if it is harmful. She doesn't cough or sputter due to her training, but she feels her body weaken, her energy sap, all the same. She has to be careful - that Evoker is sure to be a danger.

"I will be cautious," she decides, musing to herself. But is she being cautious for herself, or for the woman she does feel some manner of sympathy towards?

Then, the blast of wind comes inwards from Remi. The bladed whip is lashed at the storm one the fire dies down, trying to deflect some of te wind to keep it from swallowing her completely. She's still thrown up and back, but manages to land on her feet, skidding.

"Come then," she says simply, as grabs a floating screen and initiates it. "Observation Protocol," she intones, and the thermal visor scans on Remi next. It's not as full-throated, but the question is the same:

How do you relate to violence?

The whipblade is suddenly thrashed at Remi and Gretchen. Each blow misses, as intricate as the attacks are, as if she's attacked everywhere *around* the anti-nav and swordswoman.

Yumi might notice it first, as the Resonance lingers in the air...

And Eve snaps her fingers, causing an explosion of mystical slashes to detonate! Interestingly, the slashes are unlikely to do grievous harm to either, despite how focused they are.

Eve knows how to hold back, after all.

"Hm," she says, taking a defensive posture afterwards. She's expecting immediate reprisal.

AND THEN, Ruzica wants to authorize burger time!!!

"...authorized. On *our way home*, we can get burgers... give them a good workout first, won't you, Ruzica?"
</poem>

AS: Eveline Deschamps spends Limit on Broad!
AS: Persona! Eveline Deschamps has used the Almighty skill Observation Protocol on Remi Ryuuja!
AS: Insight: Eveline Deschamps gains 1 Limit!
AS: Tandem! Eveline Deschamps has used the Slash skill Infernal Lash on Remi Ryuuja and Yua Ooshiro!
AS: Eveline Deschamps: Loses 51 HP from Poison! Haze and Broad removed!
AS: Eveline Deschamps regains 10 SP from Invigorate!

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
A game store. Kanae will remember that. However...

But for Moriko, "That's true.!"

But So-young gets herself blasted to fuck as she talks about dancing, and Kanae looks to her. "Ouch," she says. "You OK?"

But Tamaki has her covered with some healing, and also, some advice. "Yeah?" she asks. "Cool. But my Dark Persona is weak to her Light..."

Kanae looks to Ruzica, and nods. "That's right. I'm not limited to just one dream!"

Kanae swings up her gunblade, leaping for Ruzica as she targets her Persona. Ruzica's stike hits home, but Kanae's counterattack may get the better of her.

Kanae lands solidly, and seems... more intent than before. Almost like she's getting into it. "Heh heh. Think that's going to be enough?"

BATTLE THEME: Gunship - Blood For The Blood God https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jE2UM7dzZlw
�

"You want a test? I'll start."

"...Ukobach."

She calls to Tamaki, "Time to lower her advantages."

She points forward. "Go!"

A little gremlin with a big shovel appears, dancing to and fro, awash in flame. And then--

He dances.

"You're not gonna get that burger for a long time, Ruzica Crvena."

CURRENT MONEY HALVED!
</poem>

AS: Persona! Kanae Fuyuki has used the Almighty skill Hula of Misfortune on Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Kanae Fuyuki takes 60 damage from Panic!
AS: Ruin: Kanae Fuyuki gains 1 Limit!
AS: Take! Ruzica Crvena takes 0 Almighty damage from Kanae Fuyuki's Hula of Misfortune.
AS: Spd_Dn added! Crt_Up removed!

AS: Kanae Fuyuki sets off Ruzica Crvena's trigger! 750 damage!
AS: Block Neutral! Yua Ooshiro takes 115 Slash damage from Eveline Deschamps's Infernal Lash. Critical Hit!
AS: Take! Remi Ryuuja takes 0 Almighty damage from Eveline Deschamps's Observation Protocol.
AS: Eveline Deschamps's Strength Scan! Remi Ryuuja resists Slash!
AS: Eveline Deschamps's Weakness Scan! Remi Ryuuja is weak against Fire!
AS: Counter Best! Remi Ryuuja takes 62 Slash damage from Eveline Deschamps's Infernal Lash. Resist!
AS: COUNTER! Eveline Deschamps takes 80 Slash damage in return for her attack!

<Pose Tracker> Yua Ooshiro has posed.
<poem>
Yumi turns her veil to regard Tamaki, as she leaps a solid three feet into the air (that's some choice spritework) at the sight of her Knight. "Correct," she calls, to her. "We are your enemies. Nothing has changed. Would that we had found these rogue elements before they engaged you; hence we would not stand together, now. But there, back there, I could not See. Darker, yet darker, 'til only communion rends the black..."

Perhaps it shall serve as an answer to Kanae, just the same, though she does ''not'' speak any words of reassurance on her Evoker. ... the fact that her brains aren't splattered across her Persona is cold comfort enough, apparently.

"Tsurugi! Beware! She will burn you to cinders," she calls, far too late. "Ah -- no -- your namesake's forsaken us!"

And Eveline will find, as those magical slashes crash towards Gretchen, that Yumi freezes with a cry -- "Ah!" -- but Gretchen moves, anyway. The Persona clasps her hands together, and the slashes impact against her jail bars, the force of the impact absorbed by Gretchen before it can reach her User. Yua still sways, a little, in her cage; but it is the weariness of Persona Use, rather than any physical ''wound.''

Perhaps it's the form her Persona takes which gives her the confidence to fight despite the life inside her.

"Beware," she calls, again, to Tsurugi. "She Sees you, now! Tsurugi... I'm counting on you!"

</poem>
AS: Persona! Yua Ooshiro has used the Recovery skill Deep Shroud on Remi Ryuuja!
AS: Yua Ooshiro spends Limit on Shift! Remi Ryuuja can use another Weak skill this round!

<Pose Tracker> Katsuko Yoshinaga has posed.
<poem>Katsuko thought her eyes impossible to track beneath the hood. She believed that the shadow it cast would hide her gaze, while the mask could cover what the dark might not. Even so, she felt the gold bearing down on her, that lustrous hue a stark contrast against the silver of her mask's deathly grin. She returned Ruzica's gaze with one of her own, cold and sharp as a shard of ice, while keeping her body still - whatever attempts at intimidation were offered, she responded to none of them whether through stone-faced stoicism or an adrenaline-fuelled need to fight rather than flee.

However, for all the focus that her steeled nerves granted her, Katsuko was no hardened soldier. So when a winged beast crashed upon the vehicle, less than a metre from her face, she could not help but throw herself backwards in some frantic attempt at evading harm. She clenched her jaw to suppress a cry of shock, but such an action proved to be unnecessary - the attack directed at her stole the air from lungs and the words from her mouth with savage winds. She felt weaker, and with a mind less focussed, but the closest thing she had to a wound was a modicum of soreness from where she'd landed. Had an unspoken agreement been reached between her and Ruzica, to do no harm to each other during the fight?

Katsuko thought on it. She pondered if, perhaps, an accord could be reached. Then she saw the damage that thing wrought upon the people she'd fought by, and how close they were to being knocked out of the fight. She offered no verbal response, instead quickly fixing the barrel of her gun in Ruzica's direction once more, and letting her finger twitch.

No strike of leaden lightning came, nor a thundercrack accompanied by a billowing burst of muzzle fire. Blood red and charcoal grey surged from the shadows instead, followed by a flash of gleaming silver.
"Forgive me for this, Ryuzaki." She said, mostly to herself, but perhaps just loud enough to be heard above the war-wrought cacophony. "But it's you or me. I'll take you out for burgers another time." If a decent patty was the price to pay for preserving their 'friendship,' then she considered it a worthy trade.

The silver arced through the air, and Edmond Dantes brought his sabre down upon Ushiwakamaru like a headsman's axe. The strength she'd built had been robbed from her, and there was just the slightest erring to the blade's cruel arc, but if it allowed her to reposition without interference, then more plans could be laid. Covered by her Persona, Katsuko slipped once more into darkness, slinking towards another car as she drew her cloak in to let yet more of the black consume her.
</poem>

AS: Persona! Katsuko Yoshinaga has used the Slash skill Executioner on Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Aggression: Katsuko Yoshinaga gains 1 Limit!
AS: Katsuko Yoshinaga regains 5 HP from Regenerate! and 6 SP from Invigorate!
AS: Counter Neutral! Ruzica Crvena takes 56 Slash damage from Katsuko Yoshinaga's Executioner. Critical Hit! Resist!
AS: COUNTER! Reflect Phys! Katsuko Yoshinaga takes 171 Light damage in return for her attack! Weak!

AS: Katsuko Yoshinaga spends Limit on Psych!
AS: Take! Remi Ryuuja takes 89 Recovery healing from Yua Ooshiro's Deep Shroud.
AS: Eclipse added!

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "I am always careful!" So-young protests to Moriko, which is a line that will come back to haunt her in less than a few seconds. For someone who is ostensibly and visibly an adult, she's certainly not as serious a figure as Tamaki, whether that's because of her self-confidence or the way that they've defined this battle as a test rather than a true life-or-death situation. It would be easy - and smart - to argue that So-young should be more careful, but she is the sort of person led by her heart at times like these.

As it turns out, both of them are in an unpleasant situation, as Ushiwakamaru easily counters Icarus' swoops and Moriko's attacks. This is probably to be expected on her part - So-young is no veteran of battle, and while she might be good at feeling the flow and emotions of a battle as a whole, likening it to a story going on around her, she's not so great at the personal aspect of knowing how to fight. With a hiss of breath, she stumbles backwards a step, Icarus' form wavering for a moment.

"I will be alright. Or rather, I will simply refuse to let something like this stop me," she insistently notes towards Kanae, grinning as she rubs at her mouth like she's some kind of boxer. "But, really, is this the difference experience makes? It is as if I am running into a wall of spikes."

Still, as Ruzica notices, even if she's not that great at the actual technique of fighting, she has at least properly learned and internalized that promise she just made to Kanae about not stopping. Her Persona winks out entirely as Ruzica covers Ushiwakamaru's retreat, blinking back into existence on a swooping path straight through the hail of knives. An almost languid spin sends most of them sliding through gaps in the Persona's ramshackle structure, two of them glancing off to wood to shear a tear in what looks like linen wings.

"... it isn't an answer that works for everyone, nor should it," So-young picks up on her opponent's musings, her smile almost serene as she says that despite her exertion. She's dimly starting to pick up the idea that this isn't a test just for them and how they react to this unknown opponent, but also some sort of probing and learning exercise for Ruzica as well, on how to read people. "But it is mine, and I'll stand by it." Icarus retreats as well, giving So-young a moment to catch her breath as her Persona swoops down to wind in a tight spiral - much tighter than a thing of its size should be able to - around Moriko, a healing wind rippling around them.

That feeling grows stronger as she watches the unexpected moment between mother(?) and daughter(?), and she can't help but bark out a helpless laugh at the forcible reordering of priorities and the delightful moment. "Right?" she sags to one side as she sighs. "It's not like you can even get a bite to eat now anyway. That's easily the worst part of the Dark Hour. Honestly, I could murder a burger myself."
</poem>

AS: Persona! So-young Park has used the Recovery skill Crescendo on Moriko Kumamoto!
AS: Support: So-young Park gains 1 Limit!
AS: So-young Park regains 3 SP from Invigorate!
AS: So-young Park spends Limit on Shift! Moriko Kumamoto can use another Weak skill this round! SP +8! Healed 20!

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
Don't worry, Tamaki. Tsurugi isn't here to fight you tonight. She's too busy fighting Eveline. Ignore the fact that, in her casual sweep of the battlefield, her gaze lands squarely on you for a single, soundless moment.

Probably just a coincidence.

Remi watches as Eveline grabs a screen to initiate another Observational Protocol. As noted--her scent under these circumstances is one of implacable, unyielding steel. She has been worn and chipped away, like her Persona's blade, by battle after battle after battle.

Far, ''far'' too many battles for the time she's been Awakened. And still she won't stop--she ''can't'' stop, as there are things that bind her and compel her forward. There seems to be no reaction to the violence left anymore... no fear or hesitation, certainly.

Except that underneath cold, implacable steel, a bright, furious anger simmers, the lid on it barely held in check.

What's even more distrubing, is the amount of anger wrapped up in La Maupin--that's directed at ''Tsurugi'', that might dwarf even that.

The masked swordswoman observes Eveline's Observational Protocol silently. Yumi calls out a warning of being Seen, and Tsurugi nods. "Acknowledged." Her attention locks on Eve, though it might be tough to tell with the mask. All she says is, "... Navigator." A simple identification of her skillset.

The whipblade slashes at the air, and despite not being targeted directly ''at'' her person--Tsurugi charges ''into'' the flurry of blows, weaving in between them to deliver a single precise strike at the enemy Navigator.

Forsaken namesake. "... I can still fight." But she nods, as the Deep Srhoud settles over her. "Thank you," she says in a quieter voice.

She raises her blade again, sliding her foot forward for an attack. Behind her, La Maupin raises her blade, and winds erupt from under Tsurugi's feet, flowing upwards and wrapping around her body to boost her movements--a little extra defense gainst the flames her opponent wields. And then, she darts forwards, with a sudden, lunging attack aimed right at Eveline--and she has her own trick, s with a swift motion she pulls a dagger from a sheath on her back, transitioning seamlesly into a second attack while close up.
</poem>

AS: Remi Ryuuja spends Limit on Exploit! Remi Ryuuja can use another Weak skill this round!
AS: Persona! Remi Ryuuja has used the Almighty skill Sukukaja on Remi Ryuuja!
AS: Take! Remi Ryuuja takes 0 Almighty damage from Remi Ryuuja's Sukukaja.
AS: Spd_Up added!
AS: Weapon! Remi Ryuuja has used the Slash skill Balestra on Eveline Deschamps! 2 Hits!
AS: Aggression: Remi Ryuuja gains 1 Limit!
AS: Take! Moriko Kumamoto takes 99 Recovery healing from So-young Park's Crescendo.

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
But as she withdraws, La Maupin is right there to pick up the assault, picking up right where Tsurugi left off as it slashes repeatedly at her opponent.
</poem>

AS: Persona! Remi Ryuuja has used the Slash skill Blade of Fury on Eveline Deschamps! 3 Hits!

AS: Block Worst! Eveline Deschamps takes 27 Slash damage from Remi Ryuuja's Balestra.
AS: Block Neutral! Eveline Deschamps takes 23 Slash damage from Remi Ryuuja's Balestra.
AS: Block Worst! Eveline Deschamps takes 46 Slash damage from Remi Ryuuja's Blade of Fury. Critical Hit!
AS: Block Best! Eveline Deschamps takes 31 Slash damage from Remi Ryuuja's Blade of Fury. Critical Hit!
AS: Block Worst! Eveline Deschamps takes 46 Slash damage from Remi Ryuuja's Blade of Fury. Critical Hit!

<Pose Tracker> Moriko Kumamoto has posed.
<poem>Moriko manages to hit herself. This is not the first or last time she's done something she really shouldn't have, whether that be getting into a fight or during a fight.

"Yeah that wasn't my best call." She mutters, laying on her back after the reflected magic and the gusts of wind from teh fan. Staring up at the sky with a bit of a wheeze.

A thumbs up is given to Kanae. That was before the heal. After, she forces her way to her feet. Grasping and fumbling for her spear before getting to her feet. Not that it's a spear, but she's always managed to forget the name of the thing.

Brushing herself off, now with new scrapes on the leather and pucks. She at least didn't completely break anything. Luckily.

"Wasn't it rice? Or sake?" She might have hit her head. She's definitely spacing it right now and it's going to bug her.

That it's not the right time for discussing yokai has currently left the building. "Heart's fine. Head's a bit slow for someone that rides." She notes in reply to Ruzica's other question. She thinks it was at least.

To So-Young, she offers a brief shrug, "Never was good at following my own advice clearly. Thanks though."

"You haven't had to push a dead engine up hill yet have you." She adds, you know. At the part where the worst part is the no food. "That does kinda suck though."

There is a shifty look as she lifts her evoker again, pulling the trigger the first time leading to the regal looking fox to twist, tails flowing out creating a briefly wavering barrier before Moriko. Giving her at least a little bit of time to stop getting used as a punching bag. Preferably. The second trigger pull is.. mostly just to be obnoxious as those lights reflect back in the fox's eyes. Staring down Ruzica. Clearly trying to refresh it while she doesn't punch herself in the head again. So to speak.
</poem>

AS: Persona! Moriko Kumamoto has used the Almighty skill Makarakarn on Moriko Kumamoto!
AS: Take! Moriko Kumamoto takes 0 Almighty damage from Moriko Kumamoto's Makarakarn.
AS: Reflect_Magi added!
AS: Persona! Moriko Kumamoto has used the Almighty skill Tarunda on Ruzica Crvena!
AS: Take! Ruzica Crvena takes 0 Almighty damage from Moriko Kumamoto's Tarunda.
AS: Atk_Dn added!

<Pose Tracker> Tamaki Uchida has posed.
<poem>
Tamaki flashes a nervous, shaky thumbs-up at Yumi. "YyyyyyYEP! Sure! Understood! Temporary truce!" It's not that she's eager to fight the NWO pair in the first place, she's just glad that she's not in their line of fire right this moment. The further significance of their presence may be lost on her until she has some time after the battle to better organize her thoughts.

She forgets to breathe for the few moments when Tsurugi's gaze settles on her.

Arianrhod takes the blast of light point-blank, sending her skidding on the ground into Tamaki, the latter of which exclaims "Oof!" It's a solid hit which speaks to the strength and skill of Ruzica and how she uses that gunblade. It would have bowled the pair over entirely if Arianrhod were not made of stern stuff, herself.

The pair remain upright as the blast fades. While her defenses against the element are lower, the light-based attack doesm't seem to pack quite the same punch against Arianrhod that it does against the others. Tamaki's own stomach rumbles, almost as if in sympathy for her opponent (or maybe So-Young's burger comments include Tamaki in collateral damage there, too). Tamaki's noticed their apparent similarities and has acknowledged this mirror match for what it is, but will Ruzica?

Tamaki tilts her head at Ruzica in confusion. "... But my wavering heart ''is'' the source of my strength."

Ukobach's hula cuts into Ruzica's already tight funds. ... if there comes to be a dispute over who gets the Rumor Demon reward money, Tamaki will ''definitely'' insist that Ruzica gets it.

After that, however, Tamaki gives Kanae a firm nod. 'Time to lower her advantages,' indeed. "I've got your weakness covered, don't worry about that." Looking at the crowd who's taken a light-based beating from reflected attacks, she adds, "... You're not the only one who could use it, it seems."

Tamaki invokes "Arianrhod!" once more, and the wing-armored Persona refreshes the party once more ... as well as one more thing.

Arianrhod rotates her sword in front of her. Her sword's trail leaves behind an after-image of the very Silver Wheel which her epithet originates from: a full moon, surrounded by stars. The moon-image turns, changing phases: from full, to new, to full again, to new again, and so on. The moon persists while the stars around it disappear, one by one.

Time moves ever onwards, stars burn bright then burn out, but the passage of time itself remains the same as it ever was, as days turn to months turn to seasons turn to years. Change is the only constant.

This conjured image of the moon dissipates, infusing Tamaki's companions with the energy of a good night's sleep. Die and be reborn, sleep and wake refreshed once more, ready to face the worst of trials one may face during one's waking hours.
</poem>

AS: Tamaki Uchida spends Limit on Exploit! Tamaki Uchida can use another Weak skill this round!
AS: Persona! Tamaki Uchida has used the Recovery skill Media on Moriko Kumamoto, So-young Park, Katsuko Yoshinaga, and
Kanae Fuyuki!
AS: Defense: Tamaki Uchida gains 1 Limit!
AS: Persona! Tamaki Uchida has used the Recovery skill Silver Wheel on Moriko Kumamoto, So-young Park, Katsuko
Yoshinaga, and Kanae Fuyuki!
AS: Tamaki Uchida: Crt_Up removed!
AS: Take! Moriko Kumamoto takes 73 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Media.
AS: Take! Moriko Kumamoto takes 0 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Silver Wheel.
AS: Eclipse added!
AS: Take! Katsuko Yoshinaga takes 80 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Media.
AS: Take! Katsuko Yoshinaga takes 0 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Silver Wheel.
AS: Eclipse added!
AS: Take! Kanae Fuyuki takes 73 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Media.
AS: Take! Kanae Fuyuki takes 0 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Silver Wheel.
AS: Eclipse added!
AS: Take! So-young Park takes 73 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Media.
AS: Take! So-young Park takes 0 Recovery healing from Tamaki Uchida's Silver Wheel.
AS: Eclipse added!

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
Eve has authorised burger time.

You can see the little flowers popping around and over Ruzica's head. Eve encourages her to give them a good workout just before. Despite not changing expression one bit, Ruzica seems somehow more motivated now, perhaps for now-obvious reasons.

"Order accepted..."

Ruzica regains her focus as she looks to Kanae once more, however, and how she isn't limited to one dream. Finally, they clash gunblades, her silvered one with roses adorned upon it slamming against Kanae's ruby-red one... but as she mentioned before, Kanae's combat skill does get the better of her, and she's forced to have Ushiwakamaru guard with a wing as they exchange steel and clash with each other, cognitive feathers shorn and burning away in a bouquet of blue.

It's as she thought. This girl is holds something that she seeks... in battle? In her dreams?

"No... I want... more," Ruzica intones. "Come at me again... until this hour is over, let me--"

But... what comes from Kanae next isn't more steel and swordfighting. No, Kanae's brought financial disaster to their swordfight, as Ukobach rises from within her and a l'il gremlin starts to do a shitty dance and-- and--

"....??"

The blow seems to shatter Ruzica's very soul, not on a physical level. Even without checking her phone, she can see it within the browser of everyone's souls:

ONLINE BANKING > Log in

Password: iloveburgersandsnails67!!

CURRENT SAVINGS BALANCE HALVED: 68 -> 34 yen.

".... ..... .... ...."

Ruzica looks so upset at this, like she's just been critically betrayed by Kanae. A foul mood shrouds over her as her gaze becomes half-lidded, yet no less gleaming, ominously gold behind the jet-black hair:

"Dreams are... truly cruel...
They slip from your fingers and..."

Then she manifests that quicksilver injector again, into her hand. Silver and mercurial, as opposed to Kanae's gleaming gold, as she PLUNGES it into her neck again--

"Time... shattered time...
The fragments of dreams...
Upon a half-remembered promise..."

It's at this time that Katsuko, having come to terms with what it is she must do, lets loose with not a deafening crack of lead, but -- blood-red and charcoal gray, surging from the shadows, as Edmond Dantes besets upon Ushiwakamaru as a headsman would. The Tengu thrusts both of his arms up, as if to catch the blade in a bare-handed block, but the might of the Count is not so easily denied, rending onto that o-yoroi and blasting the Tengu backwards... while the reflective shield around it sends vicious bolts of light back from the very energy of the swing.

But the Hunter has picked her out this time, and instead of Ushiwakamaru, it's Ruzica herself that alights across the field and chases her down to the car that she's picked out for her next cover -- and for a moment, with her unnatural speed, she's face to face with the masked Katsuko and the half-heard apology, in this moment her golden gaze more akin to an animal staring down at her--

"A heart that forgives...
A heart that forgets...
Forgotten in time..."

Ruzica intones, quiet enough for just the both of them, as if they were both appraising some kind of objet d'art like in that gallery in Shibuya.

--then she's darted away again, a blur of feathers and red as she alights upon So-young like she's about to give chase to the flier, grappling against Icarus like being at close proximity has suddenly become very important, like she has to take the entirety of So-young in her regard.

"Bright, so bright...
Cinders embraced upon time...
Swept away on ashes..."

Moriko ponders on whether it's rice or sake that the Tengu are known for. Ruzica doesn't seem particularly poised to give an answer, but Moriko does say that her heart is fine -- but her head's a bit slow, for someone that rides. Golden eyes consider this in turn...

"Fuel, burst, consume...
Breathe air, and become flame...
Until it is all... exhausted..."

Does Ruzica recognise the similarities in their styles? In a way, Tamaki is her superior, for Ruzica hasn't shown much capability to support and defend -- though she has no one but herself, but the way in which they wield blades and focus upon the light and the moon, perhaps, are aspects that she could appreciate...

But perhaps not now. After that fresh injection, Ruzica has adopted something of a more instinctual motion, even as Tamaki points out that her wavering heart ''is'' her source of strength.

Arianrhod's power is brought forward, and evokes the very cryptic mumblings that seem to fascinate and fixate Ruzica in this mood of hers: the changing phases of the moon, the burning of the stars, and the reminder that only change is constant... ... ...

"Quiver, waver, tremble... and bend...
A heart so rigid can only shatter...
Is this... is this...?"

But Ushiwakamaru screeches, and Ruzica looks startled by her own Persona in the midst of her curious fixations, as if the Persona is distracting her at the cusp of her finding an answer within the Silver Wheel. She suddenly alights once more with a prodigious eight-boat leap to the middle of the battlefield above, Usumidori cocked downwards and shimmering with an indefatigable, threatening light.

Whatever this next attack might be, it seems that they're planning on widespread destruction from above, even as Tamaki shrouds and Otohime Gitsune redoubles her power to dampen the worst of what's to come.

"Eliminate..."

Whatever confusion and panic might've been written on her face drains completely to a cold, passionless stare.

"Eliminate the minus factors, Ushiwakamaru."

At the cusp of bringing destructive light from the heavens, however -- Ruzica pauses, and stares towards the cluster of coffins scattered around them, for Yumezaki is rife with passerby. Their eyes widen slowly as they seem to bring this into consideration. They are starved, and not in the manner in which Kanae has robbed them.

Light must act in service of time...

And yet--

They lower their gunblade, and the light dissipates slowly, motes flickering away harmlessly.

"This isn't it at all...
This isn't enough... any of it..."

And with that, the Hunter suddenly turns, wings arced up and silhouetted against the sickly moon of the Dark Hour, and she's suddenly off into the far distance, tearing away from the centre of Yumezaki at high speeds.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>Yumi wards and heals Remi, and Eve tilts her head. "Good thought. It seems that the flames were the way to go and not the blade..."

Information filed away for later, of course.

The counterslash hits trie, and Eve recoils, but keeps moving in that defensive posture...

Five slashes come for Eve from Persona and swordswoman. Five swings of the whip go up to deflect, even as she's cut into, sent skidding back. Her skin is unblemished, and her coat is resistant, but she's definitely fatigued from that force of deflection, finally getting exhausted.

"Good, good. I look forward to seeing you at my establishment, sometime," Eve says calmly. How does she know they'd know what it is?

If she didn't know who they were...? She's being courteous by not saying 'again'.

AND THEN, she remarks to Kanae...

"That spell is most definitely foul play."

She's watching you, Kanae Fuyuki!

As Ruzica starts getting upset, however, and prepares to 'eliminate the minus factor', whatever concern Eve is feeling doesn't really show on her face. However, as the girl retreats... she turns to Yumi and Tsurugi.

"Ah. Looks like our dance is postponed. Another time?"

And then, to Ruzica's combatants...

"Stop by Fleur de Lis in Kagurazaka sometime. First drink is on me."

Eve turns and absconds, tracking Ruzica by her Resonance, as if this was carefully planned, though internally...

This was not satisfactory at all.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
Kanae clashes with Ruzica--just for a moment. She hits the ground again, and looks up sharply. Kanae... does something mean.

A wavering heart is the source of Tamaki's strength...

"Thanks!" Kaane says, preparing for her big offense thanks to Tamaki.

But... it doesn't have to happen. Eve calls it foul play, and Kanae has a grin that might be familiar to anyone who knows Isabeau. Because, "`Tell Isabeau that`," she remarks in French. She doesn'ts top grinning. But then...

She looks to Ruzica. Ruzica, who is startled. Until...

"Yeah!" Kanae calls. "Because you can't achieve happiness just through fighting!"

She pauses, and looks to Eveline, as she turns to go. "...Tell her I'll get 'that boy' a burger sometime," she asks of Eve. "And I'll be waiting for next time."

"...Not bad, you guys," she says to her temporary comrades. "You stood up against her even though she's really strong and crafty."

"...That's good. Battle shouldn't ever be something we're taking lightly."

She starts to walk off, before pausing, and looking at the NWO crew. "..."

"...You said you're her enemies," she says, looking to Tamaki. "Are ''we'' going to have a problem?"

To Yua, especially. That weird woman...

Something about her...

Kanae moes instead of leaving immediately to go check on Moriko, slinging her gunblade back onto her back and looking her over, before returning her gaze to Yua and Remi.

She can go another round if she has to, but...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Katsuko Yoshinaga has posed.
<poem>The blow was surgical in its precision - as one might have expected of a person like Dantes. The blade resembled a scalpel more than a sword as it swung towards the Tengu, but steel sinking into otherworldly flesh was not all Katsuko saw. The shield deflected the force of the blow back at her, and with scarcely a moment to brace on the spot, she felt herself be thrown back like a ragdoll. Unable to even break her own fall, Katsuko propped herself up on shaking arms, groaning in both surprise and dulled pain from the blow - only to come face-to-face with her fellow Shujin student.

She readied her hammer - a two-handed thing, built to punch through armour and pulverise flesh - but Ruzica vanished to the wind before she could swing in retaliation. Like a waiting hawk, she observed her every movement, waiting for the chance to launch a counterattack, or to know when it was safe to bolster her own strength. The moment never came. Ruzica took to the night sky, a silhouette against the light-speckled ocean of black that hung above all gathered there, too far and too fast for Katsuko to take even a potshot.

"... A heart that forgives. A heart that forgets." She turned the words over in her mind, and beneath the silvered death mask that sat upon her jaw, her lips curled into a thin frown. It was a naive notion - or a wholly incorrect observation - that she did not even think to remember.

She turned to look at the site of their battle. Slowly, she cast her gaze over every inch, scanning it for anything that might have been even remotely of interest. The people were ruled out by default - she was certain all of them had stories an uses, but the night wore on. She could not risk the chance that a stranger would see what lay beneath the mask. Silent as the shadows she faded into, Katsuko retreated from the gathering.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yua Ooshiro has posed.
<poem>
Yumi watches, as Ruzica struggles with her minus factors.

"If you suppress her not," she warns Eveline, ominously, in the wake of Ruzica's retreat, "she is soon to die. Go, now. Your sins will be evaluated against the weight of this world."

She turns, then, to Kanae; Gretchen spreads her arms, but, worryingly, does not yet ''disappear.''

"Our aims could not be met, this night," she says, her hands folded in front of her. "Of its consequences, I will not speak. With you, when we stand? We've no quarrel. We go."

She lifts a hand, palm up, a gesture of 'stop.'

"But tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow -- these nights are yet unwritten. We do not act to aid you. Seek your friendship elsewhere."

She reaches out, to Tsurugi, though she gives her time to speak her own piece should she wish it. "Come. Let us go." And when her fellow asset grasps her hand, Gretchen closes her bars around the both of them --

-- and both of them disappear, into the depths of the Dark Hour.

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> Did So-young read it wrong? She'd thought Ruzica's dream-lile poetry was an attempt to figure out what makes each of them tick, but she feels like reevaluating that as time goes on. The way in which Ushiwakamaru and Ruzica both home in on her and Icarus for a moment makes her wonder instead whether it's a matter of a moth to a flame, or if there's something truly deliberate that they're in search of. She finds herself frowning, even as she can feel the gravity and size of the impending destruction from above.

"--not in the street!--" she starts to yell in genuine warning, her heart in her throat, but fortunately Ruzica has realized that same aspect of the battlefield. Instead, they cut and run, and So-young blinks in honest confusion before furrowing her eyebrows, sure that there's some kind of puzzle to unwind here. Eveline's gracious acceptance of defeat is replied to with a light bow on her end, but when she straightens up it's with a bit of a dissatisfied frown. "No, no. That's quite alright. I can't call that our win in any sense," she muses, watching the direction in which Ruzica has--

... 'fled' really does not seem like the right word for it, does it? "... I need a drink," she sighs as Icarus winks away, but the Dark Hour's sickly green still surrounds them all, blocking burger and booze alike.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Moriko Kumamoto has posed.
<poem>Moriko shakes her head and says somewhat embarrassed, "I don't get it." Being honest at least. "Unless that's a combustion engine thing." She did take a pair of pretty good hits. She might pick it up later. She's still standing though.

Mostly.

The minus factors comments further completely confuses the student. Minus factors? Lingo's always obscure to those outside of the loop right? She whinces at yet another injection though. She braces herself, raising her polearm and- Ruzica flies away.

Moriko wobbles the blade around a few times. Even slashes at the air at least once for good measure before just planting the butt against the ground and slumping against it while muttering "Oooow." quietly

"Fighting is a sometimes food." She suggests to Kanae when she insists fighting isn't the path to happiness. Something about burgers on the soul somehow.

"I'm okay." She insists when Kane checks on her. Another thumbs up. "Most of it is in the ribs. Back brace spreads the suck out." Starting to pull an arm free of her jacket to show the back brace before realizing it's... sort of irrelevant.

"I think it's a lingering thing." She agrees with So-Young. "I have water." She adds. Then her brain catches up, "Too young for the other."

And you know, riding.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tamaki Uchida has posed.
<poem>
Change is the only constant. Thus far, Tamaki has patiently bided her time, aiding her more vulnerable companions while she waits for her own moment. She sees it in her mind's eye: as soon as Ruzica's walls fade, eroded by the passage of time, that's when she'll shift her own momentum entirely, press her advantage, and decisively strike. Even as she and Ushiwakamaru soar into the sky together, Tamaki watches and waits.

Then, instead, the hunters depart. Tamaki glances around at the coffins still surrounding the street. She ''understands,'' albeit only after the fact and after the moment has passed, unlike So-Young's more immediate recognition.

Her eyes settle on Yumi and Tsurugi. While glaring at them, scrutinizing their movements for any sign of hostility, she crab-walks over to where her dropped binder had landed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, and right back at you. If you're leaving quietly, I'm sure not going to complain." Tsurugi may remember that Tamaki fights only to defend, not out of any sense of vindictiveness.

She grins at Kanae's compliment and stretches her arms out in front of her to crack her knuckles. "I'm no stranger to tough opponents, myself. But whew! It's been a very, very long time for me." Her expression darkens, though, and she adds, "I'm not against demoralizing her, but maybe choose a different means to do so."

To So-Young, she offers, "I could use a nightcap, myself. When the Dark Hour's over, I can get us both a round, if you'd like?"

At Moriko's offer of water, Tamaki replies, "... Might want to wait until the clock strikes 12:01 even for water, though."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Moriko Kumamoto has posed.
<poem>Moriko gives Tamaki a baffled look. "Why would you want to wear one of those old fashioned hats?" Though the context does eventually catch up.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
Tsurugi and La Maupin fall back into a defensive position, side by side, in front of Yumi as the onslaught of attacks end. She does not reply to the mention of seeing her at the restaurant.

'Another time?'

"Yes," is Tsurugi's only reply.

She looks to Kanae as she looks to her and Yumi, and then the other Persona Users here. She only gives a silent nod as Yumi declares there is no quarrel... ''this'' night.

Her Persona ''does'' vanish, though, as she sheathes both her sword and her dagger. "... do not underestimate their power." She means Eveline, primarily, but she saw how Ruzica took out the taxi cab. "... or their experience." To her eye, Eveline was terribly composed during the battle, and that speaks to experience.

She walks over to Yumi to take her hand, and vanishes into the night with her.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
"it's fine," Kanae says to Tamaki. "Ruzica's always broke."

A look at Moriko, and she nods.

To So-young, and shrugs expansively. "Any battle you can walk away from, right?"

Se watches Yua and Remi for a little longer. "..." Seek friendship elsewhere. And do not underestimate--

"It's not their ''power'' I doubt," Kanae says with a scowl.

She looks at Katsuko leaving, at the others... "You win some, you lose some, right?

"`C'est la vie.`"

"I just need to get back to Tokyo..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Moriko Kumamoto has posed.
<poem>"Tokyo?" Moriko asks. Taking a moment to look at her watch out of habit. "If we're close to the end. Could offer a ride." Said with the tone of someone that wants the excuse as much as anything.

And it gives her a chance to not have to push the thing and instead sit on a curb and quesiton her decision making priorities in a supernatural fight.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-12-03: What Our Rebellions Demand

2025-12-05T05:15:05Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: What Our Rebellions Demand''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Ren Amamiya *'''Where:''' Mementos *'''OOC Date:''' December 04, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 20, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Umie sets up another meeting between Joker and Myunghon, who comes as themself, rather than Rumourmonger Merry, within Mementos. The two discuss the distortions of those that have become Palace Rulers, where the Meta-Nav app might've come from, and Myunghon expresses their plan..."

*'''Log: What Our Rebellions Demand'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Ren Amamiya]]
*'''Where:''' Mementos
*'''OOC Date:''' December 04, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 20, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Umie sets up another meeting between Joker and Myunghon, who comes as themself, rather than Rumourmonger Merry, within Mementos. The two discuss the distortions of those that have become Palace Rulers, where the Meta-Nav app might've come from, and Myunghon expresses their plan to remove Ishiba's distortions.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon sent a message to Joker, via Umie Akabane this time. They'd like to discuss something in a smaller setting than their entire group, and says that they're fine with meeting at any number of places -- the Cardboard Dragon again, Mementos, or any other place of Joker's choosing. After some (assumed) discussion, they've chosen Mementos this time, just slightly near the Entrance but not so exposed that any other Meta-Nav user would be able to walk in on them...

Myunghon did sign the message with, simply, 'Myunghon'. Not Merry.

And thus, it's why today, they're seated in one of the shallowest station stops -- not unlike the one they were found at when Tsumugi Kujaku whispered in their ear that they should make Koichi Ishiba know who holds the true power. It's a little traumatising to be back here, seated like this, not as Merry, but as themself, perhaps --

But it's important that they aren't wearing Merry's mask today.

They're dressed in their femme clothes today, which is also an unusual choice for Mementos; a white button-down ruffled blouse with a black ribbon tie, to match the jet-black Cognitive Coat of the Peacock Silk's masterful creation, and a dark brown inverted-pleat skirt and leggings to go with some nice dark Mary Janes. Their bandages are still on, as always, but they carry a more gentle look as they gaze into the depths of the tunnels as they wait, undoubtedly with a thousand superluminary thoughts in their head.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
Ren wouldn't have minded going to the Cardboard Dragon--they've gotten into shogi lately via shogi champ Hifumi Togo, and it's fun regardless of its tactical value or how it might help their chess game--but on second thought, if "Ren Amamiya" is just getting into the game, it might not be wise to let "Joker" show a novice interest in it too. Thus, Joker ultimately agrees to meet up at Mementos.

They need the extra time anyway. Part-timing continues to devour most of their summer vacation...

Joker approaches the station stop with hands tucked in their longcoat, its tails fluttering around them to match their stride. They pause as they approach, seeing Myunghon as themself. They'd signed off as Myunghon, sure, but they didn't expect them to show up ''completely'' untransformed. Mementos is a dangerous place. Actively, willfully removing one's protection from it...

Are they okay?

Joker's deadpan is powerful; that mask of theirs helps hide the concern in their dark eyes by hiding the furrow of their brows. They approach all the same, not hiding their footfalls.

"Rumormonger Merry--or should I say, Myunghon Yeo," they declare by way of greeting, projecting their deep voice as they are wont in this form. "This is quite a choice for a conversation between leaders. What sort of surprise did you have in mind?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon rises their head from their deep rummination on the first sounds of footsteps -- they'd been really poor at actually spotting people approaching lately, which is rich for a Navigator, but no one said Navigating was foolproof or unrelated to one's emotional condition either. Fortunately, Joker just simply steps up to place, and they smile and wave quietly.

"Good afternoon, Joker," Myunghon greets, Joker already identifying how they're presenting. "Indeed, it's just me today -- Myunghon Yeo. I'd realised that I've only presented half of who I want to be to the world last time, so I felt that I wasn't doing any of you a proper service."

They rise from the semblance of public seating, tilting their head one way. "Were you expecting a surprise?" they chuckle. "I should have brought some of my cookies with me, perhaps. I did find that they cognitively restore some energy."

A quiet hum, however.

"I did encourage the others to hold to their convictions, Shinjiro-ssi included. I do wonder if I'd been a bit hasty in proposing an alliance?" Merry would never say such a thing, show such vulnerability, but Myunghon feels like being honest is important here.

"But there was one matter that I'd been ruminating on since our meeting. Regarding Palaces, and Changes of Heart..." Myunghon raises a finger to their lips, gently.

"I am something of an amateur magician, and I do enjoy the act of grand, theatrical misdirection. But it is within that misdirection that I believe some of us have misunderstood their nature."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
Joker ''could'' have given Myunghon a surprise of their own--but this feels like an inappropriate place and time for it. They consider them in silence when they explain why they're here as Myunghon rather than Merry. "Why call for just me, in that case?" they wonder.

They step the rest of the way inside the strange station, opting to sit on the other side and fold their legs rather than stand and loom over them. "I was keeping an open mind. Some sort of surprise wouldn't be outside the realm of imagination," they reply.

They smile slightly at the talk of their cookies restoring health. They've found the coffee they'd made in Leblanc and carried in a thermos afterwards has had similar effects--not to mention all the snacks and canned drinks. That smile fades as Myunghon questions themself. "Perhaps," they say of the alliance proposition. "But considering how much our interests crossed over in Kaneshiro's Palace, I don't think it was out of line, either." They pause a beat. "Should I take that to mean Shinjiro Aragaki continues to disapprove of our work?"

Myunghon has a question of their own, though--or at least, they imply one. Joker nods once. They'd gotten that impression too--that Cardboard Dragon has a fundamental misunderstanding of what they're doing, even after the explanation Joker gave. There's not really any avoiding that; the Phantom Thieves are deliberately leaving out crucial information. If this is about to turn into a declaration of war, they couldn't really fault them. Not that this approach Myunghon's taking really seems like it would segue into that sort of thing...

For now, though, they prompt, "How so?" Best to let Myunghon explain rather than jump to conclusions.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon pauses. "Ah, I didn't mean to imply that I wanted to present 'Myunghon' only to you," they wave their hand gently, supressing that pang inside of them that's screaming 'that was a mistake, wasn't it?'. Joker does point out that a surprise wouldn't be unimaginable, like this...

"I suppose that that is fair," Myunghon has a quiet smile that's a bit more faded. "Now you have me wondering what I could have prepared. A festive Jack Frost-in-the-box?" Undoubtedly the 'surprise' probably was implied to be a more sinister one, but Mementos is often associated with their Pacted Shadows for Myunghon...

But as Myunghon doubts themself, Joker points out that it wasn't out of line that they'd think such after how well the two groups worked together at Kaneshiro's. But does Shinjiro still disapprove? "I did explain some of the realisations I had to him, but I do believe so. It's not my place to explain why he feels that way, though -- his feelings are his," Myunghon does share.

But it's time to get down to what they did realise.

"The 'Change of Heart' phenomenon, on its name alone, invites one to imagine, does it not?" Myunghon first begins with, words that are similar to when they talked to Akechi. They have no idea how close he is to Joker, to Ren, and all the clashes they've had. "It's easy for one to invite themself and think that it's boundless in possibility. That you can change one personality to another, as if slipping a mask on..."

They bob their head.

"But we both know it is about a 'distorted desire' that has come to afflict a person, is it not? And I know that it is not limited to those who have such severe cases that it blossoms out into a Palace. No, even here right now, there are those with distortions too..."

Myunghon gestures gently.

"People have misunderstood the phenomenon as 'imposing one's will on someone to change their personality'. That's what has the media and police in a furor," the purveyor of the Cardboard Dragon remarks. "But in reality... it's more akin to 'removing an external influence on a person', is it not? The phrase you said... 'now they see clearly.'"

It's a particularly striking way to phrase it that it's lived in their mind.

There's a look of sorrow that crosses their face for a moment.

"And both you and I know there are many other Kaneshiros and Madarames out there that ''don't'' exhibit such distortions, that fully believe in their evil with no conflict to their psyches."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
"Does that mean you plan to reach out to the others as 'Myunghon' after this, then?" Joker asks. "It would be simple enough to pass on a message, if that's your desire." And if it's not... they ''did'' notice Myunghon didn't actually answer their question. They don't think they mean any harm, but... are they perhaps nervous about doing this?

They chuckle at the suggestion of a Jack Frost-in-the-Box. They actually didn't mean to imply a sinister surprise--but ''they'' haven't unmasked to ''them''. It's only natural that Myunghon would think otherwise as long as they don't know Joker and Ren Amamiya are one and the same. "That would be a welcome surprise indeed, given the recent weather," they remark. Heat waves.............

Once again, their humor fades as the topic turns more serious. They nod once on the matter of Shinjiro's feelings and don't press. He has a right to how he feels... even if Joker disagrees with him.

Myunghon discusses the misconception that naturally follows the term 'change of heart.' It makes sense, now that they lay it out plainly. Joker has zero intentions of rebranding, considering The Phantoms are heroes that remain in the dark and only speak when they issue a calling card, but it's worth knowing that's what other people have been thinking of what they do.

Myunghon themself at least understands better. They nod again. They hadn't mentioned the Shadows of Mementos, but it seems (emphasis on "it seems") like Myunghon's sussed that out for themself. Since they also have the Meta-Nav, that makes sense. They can potentially track when Shadows vanish from this place.

"That's right," they confirm. "Once someone's views become distorted, those distortions often grow over time. Any of the human Shadows that lurk this place could, with enough time or leaning heavily enough into those distortions, develop a Palace of their own."

They fall silent when she points out that not all wicked people ''are'' distorted, though. That they see the people around them as they are and choose to hurt them anyway. Joker's skin crawls. They say both of them know that, but the concept is almost too hideous to wrap their head around... They keep up their poker face and nod once. "Being 'distorted' doesn't mean being 'evil.' It simply means one doesn't see the people and things around them as they are. Take, for example, Kaneshiro's Palace. The people who wandered the streets of cognitive Shibuya appeared as ATM machines, because he saw them not as people but as sources of quick cash."

What's a good example of someone distorted but not evil, then? Well... when Joker encounters one, they'll bring it up. Probably. That one's still something they only know from Morgana's explanations at this point.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
There's certainly much more nervousness and emotion worn on Myunghon's face. Merry paves away everything they might be feeling under that bombastic, vivacious smile of theirs, like they could take on the world and be shot and stabbed and cut and not bleed, for you'd only find Hope and dreams under there.

"I'm not so strong," Myunghon admits. "I do need the mask of Merry to take on the harrowing things we face, in the supernatural, and otherwise. But I thought it was still important I do this. I apologise, if you think I'm rather two-faced about it."

The weather has been, indeed, rather unpredictable. ... it's a bit strange, to be talking about the weather with a Phantom Thief, but it is a welcome reminder that they too are human and are affected by rain and heat waves and everything else as well. "I gave some of your allies a fright when they went through my bedroom," they admit. "Given how summer is coming to an end sooner than later, I do have to do something about it."

... just what the heck is up there??

Myunghon's knowledge of the Shadows of Mementos is fresh, and came from Akechi. It's an intriguing piece of information that's come in useful here. They don't bring up the Phan-Site, though -- it's better, at present, to not identify that, not out of a desire to hold one over the Phantom Thieves, but because they might appreciate less eyes probing on what they think might be a fragile asset for them.

... 'asset'. For a moment, they think that the cold, ruthless thinking of Myorei Yukichi has come back.

But Joker also clarifies that being distorted doesn't mean being evil, and Myunghon nods. Though in that example, they'd probably view that viewpoint as being thoroughly evil -- at least, that was the kind of thinking that their father wanted for them. That was how they killed so many, from so far away, without ever meeting the people they harmed, all to make a quick buck...

"There was one thing you said that interested me. That you act as a group only against distorted people that are causing public harm, that cannot be stopped by mundane means. This implies to me that there are many other Palaces out there where the afflicted has ''not'' caused harm... and by extension, that there is an ending to this affliction of distortion that does not require urgent attention," Myunghon continues.

"I have actually been investigating a similar phenomenon -- the 'Homunculus' -- where a person's Shadow becomes trapped in a supernatural space known as an 'Atelier' by an external presence. In that instance, if nothing is done, that person effectively dies, and that Homunculus takes over," they freely share, which is a little unusual, but at least on the topic of Homunculus, it's better that more people know... and it doesn't feel like Joker's the kind of person who'd abuse this.

A pause, as they say: "Which brings me to my hypothesis... many people believe that this phenomena started with the 'Change of Heart', as it became sensationalised by media." Beat. "But I have a feeling the distortions predated you and your group. It just falsely became a pattern when you started removing the distortions."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
o/` A mirror right in front of me... Reflecting the sad truth
o/` It's telling words not to be told: I need the mask

"No need," Joker replies quietly as those lines run through their mind. "I'd be quite the hypocrite if I criticized you for being two-faced."

No need for an explanation. They haven't removed ''their'' mask, either literally or metaphorically. After all the stress they've been under lately as Ren--after all their agonizing on reaching out to their father to try to find out the truth behind their enrollment into Shujin Academy--masking up and being "Joker" was a welcome reprieve.

You can never really escape who you are, though... Ren isn't ashamed of themself--they have faith in their convictions and abilities--but lately, more and more, it feels like the weight of other people's misconceptions has been crushing them.

...That's not something to think about right now. Their friends are a wonderful support against that, anyway.

"How frightening. I pray you deal with whatever horrors are up there with due speed," Joker replies of the eerie Third Floor, leaning an arm on the back of the bench and leaning their cheek on a folded, gloved hand. Their tone is droll, but they do remember the million-yard stares Skull and Panther had... What ''is'' up there?! Maybe it's better they never find out...

They nod at Myunghon's recap of what prompts The Phantoms to act. Theoretically, the rest of what they say about other Palaces whose Rulers aren't causing any harm is true... but they've yet to come across that, either. The Phantoms really only have been doing this since April... That's only four months. It feels like a lot to a teenager, but they've got a lot of other things to balance, too.

Joker doesn't expect Myunghon to start discussing a different supernatural phenomenon, though, and frowns at this talk of Homuculi and Ateliers. People trapped by an external force...? They don't interrupt, though. Getting this kind of information is exactly why they're still considering that alliance. They consider their hypothesis; then they shrug. Fair is fair... They shared for free, so they should respond to that good will.

"I admit, I'm not familiar with the phenomena you describe. If there are similarities between these Homunculuses and our changes of heart, it's purely a coincidence, as far as I know." They nod once. A false pattern, hm... "That's likely. We only formed four months ago. Precisely how long that scoundrel of a teacher had a Palace, none can say--but Suguru Kamoshida had been terrorizing Shujin Academy for long before we brought him to justice. It's logical to think that Palaces and Mementos have been around since long before we took the stage."

For all his amnesia, Morgana didn't get his knowledge of the Metaverse from nowhere. It'd have to have been around for a while for him to get in so deep he even lost his human form.

"Presumably, the same is true of the phenomena of which you speak," they conclude.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon's also been under a lot of duress, in no small part ''because'' of their choice to simply be known as Myunghon to the world, which has invited all manner of trouble and frightening characters to their doorstep. A logical individual might observe that it was foolish to remove the protection of their identity, but...

That they can be someone one can find when one needs help, that they stand Amongst them, is incredibly important to Myunghon. That was the seed of their Rebellion, on that day when the snow turned to rain, when Miho set those Demons upon them.

There's a graceful nod as Joker says they don't need to apologise, though... indeed, as much as Myunghon has been relying on 'being Merry'... they'll have to reckon that this isn't some kind of Jekyll and Hyde scenario (no, that's Tsumugi's Persona). That the unhealthy way they've compartmentalised as a coping mechanism will eventually catch up to them, that there will come a time when 'Merry' has their limits and be fallible...

"Some things are more difficult to deal with than a mere battle in the Metaverse," is all Myunghon says of the Terrifying Third Floor.

But, ultimately, the issue with a hypothesis is that you can start to assume that the other party knows more than they do. That the Thieves act when someone distorted is causing harm implying that they can let others be does not necessarily form a truth.

"I bring the example of the Homunculus up because I suspect that there are forces coaxing us into behaving in a certain manner -- battling Shadows in Mementos and Palaces, exploiting how they affect the physical realm," Myunghon admits readily, looking a little more wan. Joker does say that it is likely that the Palaces and Rulers and Mementos have been around longer than the Thieves...

"You may have ascertained this by now, but I own the Meta-Nav app that appeared on my phone," Myunghon also shares. "And I have done extensive testing with it. Throwing my phone away, switching to a burner, even swapping to an old gara-kei... it all follows me. And that deeply unsettles me, the idea that I have been marked by an unknown entity into what seems like a path to power..."

They shift gently, on their seat.

"But one that may ultimately contain ulterior motives beyond both of us. What causes these distortions in the first place, and where they come from... and why some of us -- and not others -- have been chosen by this app."

That wanness melts away to a weak, but gentle smile. The kind of smile Ren sees when Myunghon is in the shop.

"I suppose that, ultimately, forms my desire to be in touch with you and your group. I feel as if I am adrift in a dark pool more than I'd care to admit, and the more I can alleviate that in others, the better."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
Sometimes it's liberating to be someone else for a while--but only ''sometimes'' and ''for a while''. At the end of the day, Ren's true identity is thoroughly known to their friends. If not for them, they don't know that they could've even gotten this far. Myunghon's choice to be known as who they are... The more they think on it, the more sense it makes.

Generally speaking. They still think it's dangerous to do that here in Mementos. They choose to appreciate the trust that Myunghon's showing them, though.

They raise their eyebrows at Myunghon on the topic of the Third Floor, an expression they tilt their head down slightly to make sure Myunghon will see it. Joker leaves it at that, though.

"Forces?" they echo. When Myunghon explains all the experimenting they've done with the Meta-Nav on their app, that's surprising--but it also starts to make more sense. An 'unknown' entity... He's not unknown to Joker, though they're starting to wonder why ''they'' get to know and not, say, Myunghon sitting across from them, even though the Velvet Room opens its doors to all Persona Users... if with greater services to some than others. Something to ask Igor later... If that grinning warden will give them a straight answer, anyway. And if Caroline and Justine will stop banging on the bars of their cell long enough for them to ask.

He told them that they're the Trickster whose rehabilitation is necessary to avoid the coming ruin. If they're so special, though, why do all these other people have the same app? Why don't they get any kind of explanation behind it? Maybe Myunghon's right about an ulterior motive...

"I appreciate that," they say aloud. "Once more, I must admit that talking to your group has made it clear to mine that there's much in the supernatural world that we simply aren't familiar with."

They pause, considering their own words. "How familiar are you with Igor and the Velvet Room?" they ask. Maybe if they know ''that'' much, the rest will fall into place.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
A few months ago, one could probably ask if being Merry was liberating and Myunghon would admit that it is. Recently, however, that sense of liberation has melted away slightly into being a sense of necessity -- and Myunghon is perhaps a little further behind on the practice of sharing vulnerability and allowing emotional support from their closest, given how swiftly and suddenly the Cardboard Dragon has risen up from where they really didn't have many people before that.

In that way, perhaps it's understandable why the second and third floors have such a stark contrast.

"It could be a person, such as that black-masked one from Kaneshiro's Palace, or an organisation... or even some kind of Shadow that we are not privy to yet," Myunghon does sound helpless, not knowing the form of who it is guides them. "The phenomenon of the Homunculus is known at least two years back... and other supernatural incidents such as the Dark Hour date even further back than that.

But Joker does appreciate that sentiment. And it does count for a lot that they can share some moments where they do appreciate each other -- in hindsight, perhaps, Myunghon did feel as if they were drowning a bit in the bombastic nature that they presented as Merry, as negotiator for the whole, as much as they feel they must become better at that. A nod, as they chuckle to say, "That is the role of a Rumourmonger, after all."

But Joker then asks-- how familiar are they with Igor and the Velvet Room?

"I do visit often..." A pause, and then they find themselves admitting, "It has been useful to run away into when I am overwhelmed and need a place to piece myself together. But aside from that -- Igor is someone I still need to turn to, to affix Skill Cards, as well as exchange the various Tarot Cards I collect from my various Demonic Pacts with the demon artist."

So, very transactional, in other words. Outside of mooching the space as a place to cry in, one supposes.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
It's easier to make a friendly space if it's for others, one supposes. For Joker's part, it ''is'' sometimes a pain to remember to speak with eloquence, as befitting the mask--at least while in mixed company.

"..." Those are some guesses... There's a few organizations about, too, besides their respective ones. It might be hard to call either The Phantoms or Cardboard Dragon ''organizations'' anyway. That implies far more coherence and competence than either of them have.

"Two years... That's quite a while, comparatively speaking," Joker muses, resting their hand across their lips. "One does wonder where it all began." They quirk a half-smile back at them. "No wonder you've taken on that role, then." It's only natural for someone who's experimented and asked as many questions as they have. They will ''not'' admit that The Phantoms were mostly coasting on vibes before Makoto joined the party...

"Hmmm." Transactional, sure, which is fine. Joker has a lot of transactional relationships--not that that means there can't be anything more beyond the deals they've made. It does sound like Myunghon may have been relying on Igor more for what he can do than for what he knows, though. So:

"Have you ever asked him about the Meta-Nav?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon's speech, as Myunghon, is gentle and polite, even to Ren, like they've been drilled to speak in keigo all their life that it's exceedingly difficult to just stop, even to younger people after they've escaped the corporate world. Merry, in contrast, is even more bombastic with their speech, though it never quite reaches brusque or churlish. In both the masks they bear for the world, there's always a kind of refinement that probably came from their higher-class upbringing.

"It is a little humbling to remember that all these have been happening much longer than you and I have been awakened for, yes..." Myunghon does admit. "And some, perhaps, beyond anyone's eyes." There's a soft chuckle in turn as Joker tells them that it's no wonder they've taken on the role of the Rumourmonger.

Buuut...

Joker asks if they've asked him about the Meta-Nav.

And Myunghon can understand the implication that's behind Joker's words. Or at least, the one they choose to take.

It's kind of cute to watch them devolve through their faster-than-light thoughts in real time. In their mind, a plucky group of youngsters have come to attack and dethrone a god that has just summoned a comet of fact marked 'IGOR' into the solar system of their web of thoughts and it's just landed on the sun marked 'META-NAV', and it's melting away Mercury, Venus, the Earth... (the plucky youngsters each take 90 damage.)

"Y-you mean... you mean... it was--"

Oh, Myunghon is STRUCK speechless.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
Joker nods in agreement. The Phantoms know a fair chunk more about the Metaverse than most thanks to Morgana's teachings, but even that's dicey thanks to his amnesia, and just forget about anything else. It took an embarrassingly long time to realize the Dark Hour is called 'The Dark Hour'--they used to refer to it as 'the green time' before that. Another little something they won't be sharing with Myunghon. "Joker" has an image to maintain.

They do appreciate both Myunghon and Merry's refined mannerisms. Their normal speech mannerisms are fairly casual--it's easier to just say whatever without worrying about it, you know?--but thanks to the manner of ''their'' upbringing, it's dismayingly easy to take on a more educated vernacular when it suits them.

But then they ask, and Myunghon's brain melts down in real time, as seen through their eyes... (It ''is'' kind of funny. Joker keeps that off their face too. It's rude to laugh at people.)

"That's what he told me," they say instead with a light shrug. "He said he sent it to my phone, and spread it to my companions. I can't speak for anyone outside of The Phantoms, however." They frown. "Honestly, I hadn't realized it was a big mystery outside of our team. It could still be possible that your version of the Meta-Nav comes from somewhere else. That's why I asked what I did."

Cheer up, Merry! Maybe there ''is'' still a horrible god-thing out to manipulate us all out there! You can still be right!
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon continues to quietly sizzle in the desperate embarrassment of that realisation when the answer's been right in front of you this whole time and you just haven't stopped to check, though Joker at least does acknowledge that it is ''possible'' that the Meta-Nav apps could in fact not have come from a single source. That is a good point.

"I was one such person who didn't quite have anyone to explain the supernatural to me, when I first awakened," Myunghon shares, since they're in a vulnerable, sharing mood. It's a bad habit, perhaps, but they do feel grateful at what Joker's decided to share -- they very well could have not.

"My awakening left me on death's door, and I was hospitalised immediately after... and my earliest supernatural memory involved experiencing the Dark Hour in an emergency ward, believing I'd truly lost it when I saw that all my fellow bedmates had turned into coffins."

No wonder they want to be someone who can explain things to those who're roped into the supernatural.

"So thank you, Joker. I will ask him," they nod.

"There is... one other thing I wished to tell you. There is someone with distorted desires here in Mementos whose distortions I am aiming to resolve. A policeman in the Sumaru PD who has... assaulted... and severely injured me, not one month ago," Myunghon confesses. "His name is Koichi Ishiba."

They don't share that they were nearly goaded into causing in him a Mental Breakdown that likely would've also ended in failure and their death. The circumstances of this approach will be different. "We don't possess the knowledge to remove these distortions as you do. But... I'd like to try, regardless."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
Joker at least wasn't ''trying'' to embarrass Myunghon. They continue to pretend not to notice their sizzling. Their powerful deadpan once again saves the day...

Likewise, when Myunghon decides to share further about the circumstances of their awakening, Joker listens without expression. It sounds like a truly awful experience--no wonder indeed. If it'd been like that for ''them'', they don't even know what they would have thought. There was that hallucination before everything happened, but that was so brief. At least when they fell into Kamoshida's Palace, Ryuji was there to be baffled and freaked out with them, and they both ran into Morgana not too long after that. It's dawning on Joker that they've been blessed in a lot of ways they haven't seen up until now.

Well, at least when it comes to the supernatural.

"You're welcome. It seems we've both been lacking in important information," they reply. They pause, though, as Myunghon goes on to tell them about Koichi Ishiba. Their eyes narrow behind their mask at the damningly discreet description of his sins... and the just-vague-enough manner in which Myunghon states they want to do something about him.

"Is this a request? Or are you merely informing me as a courtesy?" they ask. "Or, perhaps, a way of telling us 'don't get in the way'?"

They pause again. Then they lean their head on one hand, fingers splayed along their cheek. "...A while back, I observed a debate the second Detective Prince conducted with someone about the ethics of a change of heart in terms of whether it's truly a boon for those who were terrorized by the one whose heart was changed. His Highness's position was that it would actually painful to a victim to see their abuser apologize apropos of nothing--that a ''true'' punishment would be to have that victim tear them down directly and force them to live in agony and hatred."

A beat.

"A surprisingly vicious young man, don't you think? But... I could understand his point of view. There's a thin line between Justice and revenge." They fold their hands over their knee. "If you ''are'' asking us to stay out of the way, we'll let you handle it as you see fit. However, we also aren't in the practice of ignoring those who seek our help, either."

In other words, if this ''is'' a request, then they'll take it to their compatriots, and never mind that some of Myunghon's friends might get upset.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
There's a gentle nod from Myunghon in turn, as Joker observes how they've both been lacking information. As a result of this meeting, even if they don't go through with a full alliance, they're definitely certain that continuing to trade intel will only benefit them both in the end. But... indeed, Myunghon is being a little vague.

"... if you'd asked me at the time when I was attacked, I would have requested a Change of Heart," Myunghon does confess. "It is the downside to what I have chosen, I suppose. You can find where Rumourmonger Merry lives and ask for their aid... but it also means that there are those who choose to abuse that too. He had pushed me beyond my limit."

A pause, and then there's something approaching a drive in their gray eye as they rise from their seat and listen to Joker speak about the second Detective Prince. There's a note of some recognition in their eye. How timely. They don't miss the way Joker refers to him as 'His Highness'...

It's a little different from the more neutrally observant, prudent way they express things most times.

But Akechi's perspective on this is certainly... interesting. They could converse for hours about the nature of justice and punishment, and their own perspective on remedial action within the justice system. Perhaps, the next time they meet.

"Don't worry. This isn't for revenge... I've already been saved from such a path by those closest to me," Myunghon admits, continuing what may very well be a confession from what they were saying earlier. Then, their eye goes half-lidded with resolve.

"Consider this... a request to watch us, the Cardboard Dragon. Because I've a means in which we may be able to affect that distortion ourselves. And if it does become proven... then perhaps we both will stand to gain from it."

With that said, they quietly turn towards the Entrance again. "Thank you for your time today, Joker. ... I'd certainly like to continue sharing information with you or your peers. You always know where you can find me."

After all, that's the characteristic nature of their Rebellion.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
He is a Detective ''Prince'', after all. But maybe there ''is'' something more to it than just a flippant joke... Certainly there's something to the look in Myunghon's eye when they bring him up, Joker observes in turn.

"Oh...? Very well." Joker rises to their feet too and slips their hands in their coat pockets. "Thank you as well, Myunghon Yeo. I look forward to whatever you have to show us."

They quirk them a half-smile... and then turn to deeper into Mementos, leaving the way out clear for them to traverse--for their own Rebellion demands they must remain in the shadows.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-12-02: A Search Warranted

2025-12-04T21:28:37Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: A Search Warranted''' *'''Cast:''' Goro Akechi, Myunghon Yeo *'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' December 03, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 20, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''The Second Detective Prince, Goro Akechi, comes late at night to the Cardboard Dragon.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Goro Akechi has posed. <poem> It just so happens that late at night, that someone enters the Cardboard Dragon rather quietly. And a young man wearing..."

*'''Log: A Search Warranted'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Goro Akechi]], [[Myunghon Yeo]]
*'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' December 03, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 20, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''The Second Detective Prince, Goro Akechi, comes late at night to the Cardboard Dragon.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Goro Akechi has posed.
<poem>
It just so happens that late at night, that someone enters the Cardboard Dragon rather quietly.

And a young man wearing a sweater vest with white long sleeves, and khaki slacks, with polished black shoes just strolls up to Merry's office, brandishing a suitcase with the logo for a Detective Agency.

Rap rap.

"This is Goro Akechi, here on behalf of the Special Investigations Unit... I have a warrant to search the premises. You will cooperate, won't you?"

...
...
...

"Just kidding." He says as he leans sideways, past the doorframe with a smile, "Rumormonger Merry, I take it? Given your reputation, I thought a light joke might be the perfect icebreaker."

Though then he comes into view, withdrawing into a more pensive stance, "Was I wrong?"

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon Yeo's had a terrifying week and a half or thereabouts, with a record overwhelming amount of dangerous customers including but not limited to:

* Tatsuya Sudou, in the role of Taka Suho! Yeah, they picked up on his implicit (and explicit) threats.
* Shiryuu Ryouhara, who barged in through their Hell Nightmare bedroom late at night!

Add all that to the overwhelming experience they've had Navigating through Eiji's Palace (which required them to mask up as Merry harder than they've had to in a while), and perhaps it's understandable that by the time shop hours close and the sun has set, the purveyor is feeling their exhaustion hit peak limits. They still have to go to the public baths to bathe, now that most people've gone and bathed (they really, really are uncomfortable sharing the baths with anyone for very obvious reasons but also they don't own a private bath)...

And thus, we enter on our scene with Myunghon preparing a small bag of toiletries and a folded towel and a change of clothes, hands somewhat shaking as--

Rap rap.

Their eye widens more than they'd care to admit, as they suddenly find a rather tidily-dressed young man. Did they forget to-- yes, they forgot to lock the door again, but their fatigue's caught up with them more than they'd care to admit if they didn't even hear or see him come in.

The very mention of the 'Special Investigations Unit' and a warrant already has Myunghon's mind tachyonically coursing at beyond lightspeeds as they spiderweb out to a number of potential items they're going to be searched or interrogated for. This young man doesn't bear the same kind of countenance or demographics as that of Ishiba or Ezoe. But it doesn't mean that he isn't related. The briefcase that he carries has a particular extravagant logo, as if he wants to show it to the world. 'A'. Special Investigations Unit. Goro Akechi...

"The Detective Prince himself," they say, gently.

Akechi gets to scrutinise the way Myunghon Yeo's face, so marked by the deep bags underneath their one eye, shrinks up into a kind of personal terror, pupil dilating as they go on their own investigative journey--

''Just kidding. Rumourmonger Merry, I take it?''

--and then, as if that were the signal, that timidness just seems to melt away as their entire body language just shifts into someone much more comfortable in their own skin, a sharp smile creasing onto the ends of their face as they place their finger to their lip and pace forward gently.

The mask is on.

Merry is dressed femme today, in a cream ruffle-blouse with a black ribbon tie that's been undone for the night, with an inverted pleat skirt and black leggings to go with the... the... massive Koala slippers.

Their Cognitive Coat is some meters away on a coat rack. The same situation as Shiryuu.

"Ara," Merry makes an inquisitive little noise. "The detective stands at the precipice to this humble card store. The door was locked until it was breached, and there are no other signs of forced entry. The windows -- old louvres, too small for persons to pass through -- all shuttered. Yet standing before them is the corpse of what was once a human being, a deadly dagger thrust through their back as if it'd materialised from thin air, for there are no signs of an intruder -- or self-harm."

The smile grows ever dangerous, as if to overcompensate for the timid soul inside. "Was it murder, detective? Or... just a simple house call? Rumourmonger Merry, at your service."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Goro Akechi has posed.
<poem>
And indeed - he does see that shift, from that personal terror... to the mask. "Oh my... did I startle you? My apologies, I didn't mean to cause you any distress."

A reminder perhaps, that the mask is not so complete as Merry would like it to be. The trauma of what happened with the Police Officer-

The idea of how many terrible ways this could go.

A momentary fright, then gone.

Perhaps it is the 'femme' dress that caused him to be so apologetic. Perhaps.

Their greeting though reminds him of precisely of that reputation though, one that caused him to make this approach.

"Well, I do love a good locked room mystery, so I'm quite certain if I were here to murder you - I could reasonably set one up in short order. Perhaps they'd even consult me to investigate the crime I committed."

He does smile in that affable way, so cheerful as he responds to that, "Sorry to disappoint, but an evening of 'light homicide' is hardly in the cards... Haha." He chuckles at his own pun.

"I merely decided to swing by and introduce myself. You've been a part of Sumaru City's Rumormonger community long enough that it'd be remiss of me to ignore your presence in this city... don't you think?"

That smile hardly changes, merely an inquisitive tone creeps in there. "Now then, do you prefer Merry? Yeo-san? I'd wager that you'd like your family's ... 'adopted' name to remain off limits?"

Ah there it is. The Detective side of him coming right out.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
One of the most overwhelming feelings of shame that Myunghon still feels on the regular is indeed when someone points out: 'hey, you masked up'. Like someone is able to discern that they did it on purpose, are shifting from one posture to another. It is, indeed, nowhere near as complete as they'd like it to be. And...

Myunghon hasn't resolved their feelings of what it really does mean to dress 'femme', now have they? These are precious, lovely clothes given to them by someone they could consider their first, who is not here anymore. They do like the clothes, but the nagging feeling of 'you're betraying yourself' and also 'you're just going back to where you started', and most painfully, perhaps, as Akechi reminds--

These were clothes granted to Myorei Yukichi.

"No, it is fine," Merry answers, though they both know the damage is already done. It's a first defeat, on that front. "Mmm. To return to the scene of the crime and deduce the very perfect incident you perpetrated is an exquisite move indeed," they chuckle.

But, light homicide is hardly in the... cards. Merry can't help but smile at that, as Akechi simply says he's here because of their connection to the Rumourmonger community in Sumaru. "My, but that does flatter me. If you are here for the latest rumours, then I can certainly provide, though the time of your arrival suggests to me you have more... private matters than the ordinary rumourmill that excites the day crowd."

But Akechi also brings up preferred names, as his inquisitve tone creeps in. "Merry is fine," they answer all too lightly, trying to not show his bringing up their 'adopted' name rankling them lightly. "That other person, in many practical measures, died already, would you not agree? Perhaps even..."

They show a pleased face that soft belies their tender nature underneath. "... to a light homicide."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Goro Akechi has posed.
<poem>
"It would be. Indeed, if I were a 'Master Criminal' rather than someone the media has titled the 'Second Coming of the Detective Prince', you would be in trouble!"

He keeps smiling, like it's a simple back and forth sparring match in that sense. "Aha, more that I was hoping that I might interest you in being an informant... from time to time." He says, as he even produces a business card from his pocket, as he sets down his briefcase.

And indeed, even holds it quite respectfully with both hands and a small bow, even as Merry asserts that 'boundary'. "That does seem to be the case." He says in reply, "And perhaps it's even for the best. After all... many would call it 'karmic retribution'."

An interesting choice of words, which is akin to 'divine punishment'. "But I'm not one of them. The will of neither gods, nor demons interests a man such as myself. Such mysteries are always so... banal."

As he then steps back, saying instead, "I thought instead of rumors... I'd ask for a personal opinion of sorts. The Phantom Thieves of Hearts..." He says, as he places a hand to his chin, "... what are your impressions of them, thus far?"

Thus far... that rather implies he thinks they have first hand knowledge, doesn't it?

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
There's a luxurious chuckle at the comment, as they reply in turn, "A Detective can often only be defined by the Criminals that they so chase, not to mention the laws of the society they choose -- or choose not -- to integrate with. Like two sides of a coin... they're terribly fascinating people, are they not?"

On the mention of his interest of being an informant, Merry does gesture, towards the couch, no matter the time of night. It's just polite to converse in a setting that, for all the Cardboard Dragon is, does look rather like a traditional detective's office, with the coffee table and the old windows overlooking not much at this late hour.

"Would you like some tea, then? I also baked some cookies a little earlier today, if that is to your taste."

There's a soft blink from that one gray eye of theirs as Akechi describes what happened to be 'karmic retribution' to some. Divine punishment. There's a faint smile, as someone who still very much carries their six mon coins with them. But Akechi underlines himself as someone who's not interested in the wills of gods nor demons.

Such mysteries are so... banal.

"They are very convenient beings, are they not? The words of divine providence and eternal damnation are often very flexible," Merry chuckles. "''Probatio diabolica'' is a favourite cudgel of many in power."

But what is intriguing is Akechi's topic of what they think of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. ... what is their impression of them? This wasn't entirely expected... does that mean that he has an inkling as to their recent dealings with them?

"Hmm. I do enjoy the craft of their showmanship," Merry points out, as someone who's equally theatric. "As someone who enjoys tricks," the Rumourmonger continues, waving their hand and twisting their wrist about before manifesting a single Ace of Hearts from seeming thin air, "I enjoy a bit of misdirection myself. Their theatrics invite discourse by its very nature, does it not? 'Is this just?' is something the common person is invited to ask."

They smile and place the tip of that card to their lips. "What do you think a Change of Heart is, dear Detective?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Goro Akechi has posed.
<poem>
"Aha... You took the words right out of my mouth, actually. When you actually think about it, a Detective is a rather nebulous thing. Taken alone, there's no guarantee that one will be valuable to society. A couple of things are needed-"

He holds up a single finger of his right hand, "A tough case which only they can solve," A second finger, "And the existence of a worthy rival to make such a case."

Indeed, he seems to agree completely about the 'two sides of a coin'. After all, Herlock Sholmes and Arsene Lupin... if you actually read it, Sholmes is quite the ruthless bastard, in pursuit of besting the Gentleman Thief.

"Well I wouldn't want to impose - though if you were inclined to insist... I could go for a cup." And he does move towards the couch, to settle down at the conversation. He even makes himself quite comfortable. One leg over another, a hand against the side of his head. That boyish smile her way.

Though as she cites the Devil's Proof- "Nearly synonymous with Plausible deniability... in the court of public opinion." He says, with a little cluck of his tongue, like he agrees with them on the matter.

Does he know? Does he not know? It's hard to say, his expression isn't betraying anything on the matter, merely scrutinizing the mask that Merry is putting on.

"'Invited' yes- though how many actually do? To many - it's simply a matter of identity, and feeling, more than debate."

And yet - he's the one on TV trying to appeal to the masses in the opposite direction. 'What do you think a Change of Heart is, dear Detective?'

He sits up straighter, uncrossing his leg, "A fair question. However, as their methods remain unknown, I can only speculate based on the ''results''. You see- I questioned Junya Kaneshiro and his Lieutenants immediately after he turned himself in. After that Calling Card was sent - his subordinates reported that there was a near immediate change within him. He was not the same man, in their eyes... a completely different person, that does not fit the psychological profile of a ruthless Mafia Boss that was willing to ruin the lives of children with about as much thought as he'd give to ordering his lunch."

A beat.

"Perhaps even less." Folding his hands together, the fingers steeple, "Would that not be considered a 'Death of Personality' in a sense, to change someone so thoroughly against their will?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"A Detective is often presented as a... grotesquerie," Merry muses, though the comment doesn't seem to be pointed at Akechi at all, given that they're musing about the very concept of the role. "In many classic works, the role of the detective is the impersonal monster that comes to strip out an unbearable truth out only after tragedy has happened, and just as quick to leave those who have to dwell on such revelations."

They tilt their head with a deep smile. "I find those kinds of characters... relatable. The Detective, as an ideal, not a human being. Not a creature of blood and emotion, but one of logic and truth."

Which does speak volumes to the timid, terrified Myunghon masking behind the seemingly invincible, bombastic, vivacious Merry, isn't it? Merry, the very ideal of the Revolutionary, the Rumourmonger, whatever other labels you want to ascribe to them -- a creature that can't bleed purely because they run on ideals and Hope.

It's almost childish, like bearing a hero's mask in play-pretend.

But very human, no matter what Myunghon says about 'what was once a human being'.

Tea is served in due time -- Akechi noticing easily that their arms are rather weak that they choose not to put all the cups and saucers and kettle in one tray, and with a slight tremble to their fingers still. It does line up with how much Officer Ishiba's been inflicting physical trauma on them, and with their negative relationship with doctors due to how they still exist as Myorei Yukichi...

But Akechi speaks of a Change of Heart from a non-supernatural standpoint. Is he awakened? Is he simply just very clever? It's a perspective worth indulging in, nonetheless. After all, to the unawakened, it really does feel as if one's personality has been stripped from the core, changed overnight.

"That is true. The change is very dramatic, is it not? And the choice of target has been someone deeply harmful to society -- Kaneshiro, Madarame, as if to further illustrate how the 'worst' can be subverted. Everything about the Thieves' modus operandi is to maximise attention, from the choice of Calling Card, and the specific terms they use, and even the aesthetic that's inevitably been adopted to their Phan-Site..."

A pause.

"But we do have many facets of ourselves we never show the public, do we? It is easy to say 'a Mafia Boss could never act like that'."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Goro Akechi has posed.
<poem>
"Not inaccurate. Though I far prefer the word 'eccentric'. Perhaps it's because it classifies the person as more 'acceptable' to society."

He says with a subtle tension around the edges of his smile, "Those with talent - those with benefit to society are allowed to exist as 'eccentrics'. A monster wearing human skin... isn't. Perhaps it's merely a matter of optics."

He says, while looking at them with those brown eyes, reflecting the mask Merry has on right now.

"My sole interest after all is uncovering the truth. Some would call that quite monstrous, in certain contexts."

Yes, indeed, it does speak volumes. However, one can say the same of him... as the popular celebrity Detective.

The Hero's Mask. It's validation. Like a Featherman character's secret identity.

Recrossing his legs, he takes a sip of the tea in a more casual pose, lifting it up. If he's concerned about poison or polonium, he's certainly not showing it.

"... by the 'Phan-dom'." He points out, "I imagine the web administrator would be quite distressed if he were to be accused of ''colluding'' with the Phantom Thieves on matters of Web design..."

Poor Mishima's Shadow is quite talkative, so wanting for attention and validation. What a useless weight around their necks.

He holds up a finger, and waggles it from side to side, "We all wear many masks in our lives, this is true. And there sides of ourselves we don't show to others... Tatemae... Honne. It's just how we live our lives."

He says while taking a sip of tea, "But let's say for the sake of argument - the Phantom Thieves drug out the Mask your dear father desired for you to wear... and forced it upon you."

A beat.

"And the only thing you felt... was gratitude."

A rather dark twist upon the concept, isn't it?

"It's a rather extreme example, but it's often where that line of thinking goes, isn't it? So you would then understand why I'm so skeptical of their methods, I imagine."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"Hmm..." Merry muses on that word Akechi's picked, eccentric. "If it suits -- however, my personal experience with the word 'eccentric' or 'idiosyncratic' has largely been through another's mouth to excuse them for the rough edges that must be sanded down, as you say -- only allowed to exist for their talent, to be discarded when it is inconvenient."

It's very personal, perhaps. No doubt their father has bandied the word about for them many a time.

But Akechi makes one thing clear -- his interest is in uncovering truth. There's a light, almost too-easy smile at that, as they offer the cookies next -- they're checkerboard cookies. A little misshapen, but perhaps that's what makes them lovingly handmade. And the taste is... exacting of a recipe. The competent standard of a novice baker who has followed instructions to the letter.

"It is not akin to the phenomenon of copycat crimes, though, ara... will you also knock on their door and say you have a warrant?" Merry chuckles at the thought, though perhaps understanding that whoever this administrator must be on their radar in some respect.

But as for Merry's demeanor...

It is curious, isn't it? The habit in which Myunghon hides behind Merry, as if it were a shield against all that ails in the world. It's easy to think of it as two separate halves, but like it or not, this isn't just impeccable acting -- Akechi'd know, perhaps, better than most, because...

The Shadow he met long ago likely behaved in such a similar manner, so thoroughly repressed by the demeanor Myorei put on at the time, thoroughly beaten down and obedient to her father.

Tatemae. Honne. There's a lot of nuance to their own culture here that gets one called out for sticking out. Some relish in it. Others avoid it like the plague. But Akechi proposes a thought experiment--

What if the Phantom Thieves brought out the Mask their father desired for them?

Merry's face is blank and cold for a moment at this.

''And the only thing you felt... was gratitude.''

"I do believe skepticism is warranted. After all, on the surface, it seems nothing short of 'magic', isn't it? But there is always logic behind the magic," Merry ruminates, immediately taking on the opportunity to continue the conversation rather than try to dwell on that past self.

"I spoke of misdirection earlier. Don't you think that the name itself invites overimagination? That's the tool of any magician worth their salt. A ''Change'' of Heart. I think the naming is deliberate to invite us to think, 'these Phantom Thieves could implant *any* personality they so desire'. That is, after all, what change means to our cultural consciousness -- a discarding of the old, to any new. The new you, a blank slate with infinite potential."

They gesture with one hand. "But the victims of this Change of Heart phenomenon have largely only become submissive and apologetic, have they not? We have at least three cases to identify a pattern. Do you not think this suggests a limitation in their methods?"
</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Goro Akechi has posed.
<poem>
They're not wrong. In fact, if he had to say it - he understands the balancing act of winning popular opinion. If he's not ''winning''. Then he's discarded.

If he weren't useful to Shido, he'd be discarded long ago.

"Well that's hardly exclusive to the 'eccentrics'. As I said to an acquaintance of mine not so long ago... Adults are only interested in using the young, while they simply do as the Adults say."

He then winks at them, "So if you would consider going easy on me - I rather like my rough edges." It's an acknowledgement perhaps for the first time that Merry is an adult in his eyes...

... and that they're in the room with a child. Detective or not. Celebrity or not.

A cookie is dipped in the tea, as he takes a bite. "Quite good, my compliments." The fact is, he doesn't actually care, but an easy lie is better than a hard truth for most.

Not everyone's sole interest is in uncovering it.

"Heavens no." He smiles at them, "I wouldn't want to be accused of being ''unoriginal''. Perhaps a telegram... or would that be too old fashioned?"

Their Shadow... how different they were to the person he sees in front of them now. Well, Akechi is hardly one to diss and tell.

"You might be right." He concedes regarding overimagination, "Perhaps I am misreading what they do entirely. However, I'm disinclined to give them the benefit of the doubt without a full understanding of what they do."

And then he holds up three fingers, "Does it?" He questions regarding the pattern, "And what if I told you that they've targeted many more individuals than the news media has reported upon..."

A sip of tea.

"... perhaps even a great many. And if the net we're casting is that much wider... then who is to say what their limitations actually are?"

He does smile much wider, "Though, I should be more careful, after all I am speaking to a Rumormonger."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
That was exactly it, wasn't it. Myorei Yukichi went through the first 21 years of her life, some could say, not living, because the only metric by which she had to exist was to be useful to her parents... and Seiichirou Yukichi had a much tighter grip than the aloof, seemingly eccentric Suzie Park.

And their decision to stop had massive, disastrous consequences, like being discarded with light homicide, Miho-style.

Merry hums a thought at that, as Akechi speaks of how the dynamic of adults and children is of being used, and doing as they say. It's... a very stark worldview, for someone -- yes, young as Akechi is. Merry doesn't particularly differentiate between adult and child... but Myunghon does, and as much as they want to pretend they're separate halves, it's the empathy and caring they have inside that's allowed them to reach youths like Shinjiro and Tsubasa.

"I wouldn't worry. Is this not a den of eccentricity all on its own? You well know of my past, and this is what I chose instead of the high halls of corporate," Merry points out. There's a quiet nod at their cookie compliment (anything that isn't 'you messed this up' is a pass in Myunghon's book right now, given how they have no frame of reference themself)...

But Akechi jokes about not wanting to be unoriginal. A telegram? "It'd be ''unique'', that's for certain."

Akechi isn't inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt, and Merry simply nods at that. "Oh, I'm not saying that. I'm merely pointing out what I observe behind the pomp and splendour of the whole affair. When you've little inkling of how it is a magician plies their trade, it's easy to lose sight of the ground."

There's a hum of curious thought, however. More than three... perhaps even a great many.

"How intriguing. Might you be referring to the Phan-Site postings, perhaps...?" Merry ponders. They don't really have a good sense of what amongst them is done and not. "When you compare that mode, it's almost like the Revenge Request website, isn't it?"

There's a faint chuckle and a widening smile in synchronicity with Akechi's own widening smile. "We Rumourmongers function on barter, of course. If you believe your information to be solid, then I would not mind exchanging intel."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Goro Akechi has posed.
<poem>
A very stark worldview... yes...

... though his upbringing was a great deal different, from Myorei Yukichi's...

"Then I suppose I should be grateful that you're giving me a 'pass'." Akechi says, with a sort of wry humor. As if they had all the power, and he had absolutely none.

Then again, for a child to have power in a society that values seniority so much as to make one year's difference significant, perhaps his methods are the only way that someone like himself can exist.

"Well, I think Magicians is likely a bit of an overstatement to begin with... but I do digress."

Akechi is still so upset that they have a ''single thing'' over him in the Metaverse. Despite being relative novices.

SO MAD!!!

"Perhaps... and I would say there are similarities, superficially. Though the Phan-site offers no obvious money trail to follow... and the Revenge Website is quite good at hiding their own."

So good that even the IT President in his pocket couldn't track it, he could only see there ''is'' one.

"Barter is it? Well..." He leans forward, "... what if I told you I could tell you who all of the Phantom Thieves are right now?"

...
...
...
...

"Just kidding." He says with a smile, again as he waves a hand dismissively, "Obviously if I knew that, they'd already be in custody."

Something which ''bothers the hell out of Ren to this very day''. But Merry doesn't need to know that.

"But yes, let's suppose that the Phantom Thieves do in fact - answer a number of Phan-Site requests and send their targets Calling Cards, even if they themselves are certainly not involved in it's running. Is that useful enough information, at least for your purposes?"

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
In a way, Merry is not unaccustomed to teens that already have had to become adults. And as much as people would like to underestimate how shockingly easy it can seemingly come to some, there's always a hidden cost, they've found. Much like how their years cost them, one way or another. How it pulled them away from their first love and towards corporate killings. All in the name of being... valuable to someone who ultimately didn't even lavish them with care.

Myorei Yukichi's upbringing was moneyed, certainly. But a cold, desolate latchkey upbringing, despite all the money.

But that just invited a child to wonder: 'what is the secret that will make them care?', doesn't it?

Sadly, Merry doesn't have any idea that Akechi is salty about their catbus. ... Merry might be, too. But then again, they have Mio, who can drive, and their sister, whose Persona they can cling onto for flight, so perhaps even in this regard they're a little ahead.

"Hm," Merry finds something Akechi says very intriguing -- perhaps even moreso than the fact that the Phantom Thieves do answer the Phan-Site requests, that there is some measure of legitimacy behind this. "No money trail. A grassroots, low-key affair, then," they muse. "It would be rather embarrassing for the Thieves to have been behind large sums of money, after all."

But Akechi plays at being able to tell them -- all the Phantom Thieves! all their identities! --

No, just kidding.

If that were the case, they'd already be in custody.

Merry seems to just take that in stride, but they wonder -- it almost sounds like he's ''proud''. Because as much as Merry thinks they have nothing in common... they do have that brattish streak, don't they, the way they feel the need to boast or even just seemingly declare something grand to offset people.

"I suppose the trail, then, leads to you being part of the Special Investigations Unit -- small Changes of Heart that do not merit media reputation, but ultimately become collated as part of policework," Merry remarks, then... they lean forward.

"That is valuable information..." A pause. "There is one other thing I'd like to request of you, as someone who's been following these cases -- one of timeframe." Merry stops for a moment, then says, "... did these cases only start in April this year, or have there been cases even before the media sensationalised it?"

They tap their chin. "In exchange... well, I certainly could apprise you of Sumaru's darling sequence killer, the Joker Killer. That is our homegrown special at present." There's a lavish little smile as they tilt their head. "They've even been here, on the very grounds we are in... with an interesting quirk on the security footage I recorded."

The Rumourmonger offers their phone forward, where they have footage from a certain Tatsuya Sudou posing as Taka Suho conversing with Myunghon at the counter... save that their face is covered by shadows, as if hands were covering their face.

"Now, you could very well say I edited this... but I stand to gain nothing from it. The camera footage is also a closed loop not connected to the internet. You could say it's a Sumaru flavour of mystery, wouldn't you say?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Goro Akechi has posed.
<poem>
"Quite. Though I won't rule out them having other controlling interests just yet..."

... How did they learn so quickly how to do something that he himself has no idea how to do...

It's infuriating, they must have had help, some patron, some sponsor - perhaps Igor shared with them some secret for all he knows.

Or that damnable cat who becomes a BUS!

But he does seem quite proud, doesn't he? Or perhaps he's merely used to having to boast about his talents just for adults to even acknowledge him...

Akechi smiles at Merry as they ask a question, "No, April is certainly when they made their debut. Whereas the Phan-Site was erected in early May. May the Fifth I believe, off the top of my head."

He then sits forward, putting the tea down, "However... it's not impossible that the Change of Heart Phenomenon is related to another one we both know quite well... that of the 'Psychotic Breakdown'. Which... as you well know, has been an epidemic for roughly two and a half years of recorded cases. It's my belief that it is not an actual Psychotic Break with reality... but something induced by a tangible culprit."

He does smile broadly, "Which is why it's all the more important that I understand their methods as soon as possible... as I believe it will lead me to the one responsible for them."

He at least doesn't fully commit to them being the Phantom Thieves (Not anymore. Sorry not sorry Tsubasa.)

Merry does however offer something of the Joker Killer, and Akechi's smile fades into something far more serious, "Interesting, by all means..." He watches the video, and in the aftermath, a hand to his chin, as he stares at it with a certain intensity.

"No, if it had been altered, there'd be signs... nor do I believe this is the result of some unique technology he possesses." He rubs his chin, seeming lost in thought for a time. "... the Audient Void..." He murmurs, which may sound unusual to Myunghon's ears.

He seems lost in speculation for a few moments longer, before nodding, "Yes, thank you, this was a valuable trade indeed, and explains much on why we haven't captured any security footage of him as of yet."

He hates this more and more, the closer to the mystery he gets. And yet, he persists. Because he has to prove himself the greater Monster.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"The site came after, not before," Merry ruminates on that. "It's the kind of situation where you could very well believe it may not have even been planned." Other controlling interests, however... what other co-conspirators could there be, accidental or otherwise? It's interesting to talk about.

Akechi does confirm that the Change of Hearts did start in April... at least, in the shape that they -- the police -- know of. But it's not impossible they're related to the Psychotic Breakdowns... and that they're induced by a culprit too. "Mm... that had well been on my mind too. There's even been speculation that the Change of Heart is a 'rehabilitation', a purposeful image change," Merry notes, though knowing what they know... it's rather an interesting relation they have, in the supernatural end of things.

But they're not inclined to dismiss Tsubasa out of hand, because they do care about them.

"Hm... 'the one responsible for them'," Merry points out. "Do you believe there is a benefactor, a mastermind, in the shadows, in contrast to the Thieves in the limelight?"

In truth, Merry did suspect that too, but perhaps in a different way -- because they don't have the privilege of Igor guiding them, they're still suspicious that a supernatural mastermind is behind the manipulation of the Meta-Nav apps and, now, the distortions that have caused Palace Rulers to rise... and that what they do may very well still be in the rails of what this unknown entity wants them to do.

They're extremely discomforted by how the Meta-Nav jumps with them, after all. Like a Mark, in a different sense.

But the Joker Killer seems to bring an unexpected side to Akechi -- something that washes the smile off in favour of a certain... drive in them. Like the Phantom Thieves are sport, a rival to beat, but this -- is something different entirely.

The Audient Void...? Myunghon does feel a little unseated, somehow, at that. But Merry's the one present, and there's a faint chuckle as they say, "Would you mind if we traded numbers, Akechi-kun? I think we could have a mutually beneficial relationship. The Phantom Thieves are of great interest to me, and it seems, the Joker Killer is one of yours."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Goro Akechi has posed.
<poem>
Almost... you'd think these masterminds were a bunch of rag tag teenagers without any real plan and only the slightest inkling of what they were doing?

But no, impossible. That can't be for any true Phantom Thief!

"Yes. To be honest, I find that kind of 'rehabilitation' abhorrent. Because it means they did not truly take responsibility for their actions."

If there's one thing Akechi himself is big on- it's that he, and he alone is responsible for what he does.

Not Shido, nor anyone else.

It was his choice, and nobody else's to live his life this way.

"I do. And I haven't quite ruled out the Phantom Thieves... as of yet. It could be one of their members is not exactly who they think they are."

But which one? He doesn't explain, quite yet.

Akechi's still considering the implications of Nyarlathotep taking a hand in this. He still remembers the feeling of Takahisa Shinjo, his hands upon them - that feeling like he was crawling in and out of his mind.

That smile like he was so insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

He refuses to acknowledge some 'Crawling Chaos' as something he would ''ever'' follow. He is the only one responsible for his actions. End of story.

He's still staring at the afterimage of her phone in speculation before, "Hm? Oh- My apologies, I was lost in thought. If you'll just let me see that business card I handed you earlier..."

He writes the number for his second phone, the one he always answers as soon as possible, on the back of the card. Then inputs Merry's Phone Number into his own contact list.

"Well, I thank you for indulging my curiosity tonight. I do believe this could be a very productive relationship for the two of us. Now if you'll excuse me... I shouldn't impose any longer. Consider this search warrant... executed." He says as he lifts up his brief case, and waves with a chuckle, as he steps out of their office before-

"Oh... Did I forget to mention that the Sumaru Police Department is wholly corrupt and that I'm attempting to destroy their entire power structure?"

A beat.

"It must have slipped my mind."

WHY IS THAT WHAT HE LEAVES THEM TO SIT WITH!?

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-24: Reach Out

2025-12-03T06:47:24Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: Reach Out''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Yusuke Kitagawa *'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' November 25, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 16, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Yusuke comes to the Cardboard Dragon to apprise Myunghon of the work they've done on the Skill Card commission, and Myunghon treats him to cookies and tea, and offers to reach out to Masao Inaba for him.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> The Ph..."

*'''Log: Reach Out'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Yusuke Kitagawa]]
*'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' November 25, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 16, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Yusuke comes to the Cardboard Dragon to apprise Myunghon of the work they've done on the Skill Card commission, and Myunghon treats him to cookies and tea, and offers to reach out to Masao Inaba for him.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
The Phantom Thieves visited the Cardboard Dragon a week ago or thereabouts -- when the titular group mentioned that they'd be interested in a manner of collaboration through Jose. The meeting was... inconclusive, with some hearts on the Cardboard Dragon side with some misgivings about the Phantom Thieves' methods -- but nonetheless, they've had contact... and more to think on since then.

But that's then -- and this is now, in the pleasant, cozy afternoon of a Thursday during school holidays. Myunghon Yeo is just themself at present, not the bombastic, theatrical Rumourmonger Merry -- and they're rarely humming to themself as they carry several big boxes of Koala March crackers to the couch in preparation of their favourite activity.

They're dressed femme today -- one of their white ruffle-blouses with a brooch ribbon tie, with a chocolate A-line inverted-pleat skirt to go with their leggings, but they have their jet-black coat draped on underneath.

Something smells nice in the air too, outside of the Koala March crackers... they've been baking.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yusuke Kitagawa has posed.
<poem>Things might be... complex between the Phantom Thieves and the Cardboard Dragon crew, but one half of the equation has a distinct advantage; they can still come by the card store without revealing themselves.

A thing that Yusuke is taking full advantage of; after all, he has a commission to complete! He's brought a portfolio case with him as he steps into the shop.

He has only previously seen Myunghon in their suit and bandages, so the choice of sweater and skirt takes him aback for a moment - but only for a moment as he stops to look up at the bookshelves thoughtfully, before turning towards the proprietor. "Good afternoon, Yeo-san."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Indeed! Myunghon has no such luxury. But, at the same time, this is a statement they've made to the world -- Myunghon Yeo is someone you can simply find on a map and approach, for better or worse. Because that is their brand of Rebellion: to be approachable.

This has had disastrous consequences already, like beatings via violent, racist cop, and also more recently, the Joker Killer. But the die has been cast already, and they must take their beliefs to the very end, whether they will burn with their Justice or not.

"Oh, Kitagawa-kun, good afternoon," Myunghon greets. They look somewhat more wan and frail than the last time, pausing and catching that moment and looking down at themself, biting their lip gently. But then a diversion:

"I just baked some cookies. Would you like some?"

That aroma of fresh baked vanilla and chocolate cookies, arranged in a checkerboard pattern...

The bandages, at least, are all still there -- that's not an option for them.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yusuke Kitagawa has posed.
<poem>Myunghon's own pause at ''his'' pause and their look down at themself - Yusuke pauses ''again''. He half-opens his mouth, not sure what to say -

A blessed diversion is presented in the form of cookies. His stomach suddenly agrees that this is a good topic to pursue.

"Ah, that must be what smells so good. I would love to try them," he answers. "They look lovely - how difficult was it to get the checkerboard pattern to come out?" He seems more interested in how the cookies look than in their nature as a snack.

"I have some samples of the work you commissioned from me," he says, idly. "I was hoping to see what you thought of them."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon sounds rather pleased Yusuke's cottoned onto the pattern. "Oh, it does look rather fancy, does it not? But it was a bit simpler than I thought. I only had to make two batches, and then create -- logs, if you will, in a small two by two stack and then cut them to create each cookie."

There's even some where the chocolate and vanilla have been swapped with a heart or star cut-out pattern. One supposes Myunghon swapped those around too.

"I must say, baking has been quite the wonderful diversion. It makes sense to me for its... specificity," they admit. "Like a science. But there is an art to it too, is there not?"

But Yusuke has examples! They look rather delighted, saying, "Oh, thank you so much. Let me prepare some tea for us..."

It doesn't take them that long to prepare -- though the motion of actually bringing everything is a little precarious, their arms still damaged and weak like the last time when they tried reaching overhead. They're quite used to it at this point, though.

Tea and cookies settled (with Yusuke free to help himself to as many as he wants), Myunghon appraises his work!

"Were you able to get in touch with Inaba-san too, by the way...?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yusuke Kitagawa has posed.
<poem>"Ah, I see... a mixture of mediums to complement each other." Yusuke takes a cookie, taking a bite of one of the corners.

"Mm! This is excellent. I can tell you've worked hard on them." He takes a couple and sets them aside on a plate as Myunghon steps away to prepare some tea, turning towards his portfolio case and unzipping it.

"You gave me that card, previously, and I attempted an exact recreation, but it was..." Absent of proper words to describe it (at least, without outing himself as someone who can perceive the differences between skill cards and the Cardboard Dragon's normal wares), he waves a hand. "Lacklustre. Not like ''my'' work."

He pulls out a large print - has he been working at canvas scale? And offers it to Myunghon. "I have a few iterations - it struck me that you might prefer a collection of... different attempts to capture the ''idea'' of lightning."

"As for Inaba-san... I have not yet reached out to him." He pulls a face. "It feels... awkward."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"A mixture of mediums... I do like the way you put that," Myunghon does sound genuinely appreciative. They're starting on the Koala March boxes to open them, as they observe the -- surprisingly large Skill Card! Even untrained and quite frankly, with very little artistic brain as Myunghon does, they can tell it's done quite well, from a technical perspective, yet...

"Hmmmm...." Myunghon bobs their head, as they accept the print. "This is beautiful nonetheless, though. And I do appreciate the work and effort you've placed into it. Thank you."

Still, that makes both Yusuke and Mark now who can't capture the ''essence'' of Skill Cards. It's clearly not a matter of technical skill. What is it that they're missing? What's the... secret sauce, as it were?

But Yusuke tells them that they haven't gotten in touch. "I see..." A pause. "Would it help if I reached out to him on your behalf? Sometimes, having someone there can take the pressure off. Inaba-san and I are acquainted, and I would not mind doing this."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yusuke Kitagawa has posed.
<poem>"I think it was the exact recreation of the style that was troubling me," Yusuke says. "Whatever was missing, it was... some ephemereal quality. The kind of ephemereal quality that real masters imbue their work with."

"That said, I have no intention of giving up. It's ''quite'' the challenge."

When Myunghon offers to reach out to Mark, Yusuke sighs and nods. "The idea of directly meeting someone else who could have been one of Madarame's victims..." He looks away, fixating on his plate of cookies for a moment and taking another bite. "... He used us all against each other. As each of his pupils - that is, the people he was stealing the work of - became of no further use to him, he would tell the rest of us that ''that'' person was the one stealing, betraying the rest of us. It was a matter of luck that Inaba-san didn't manage to become a part of that, but even so the fact that he came all the way to Japan for the apprenticeship only for that to fall through -"

He sighs. "I am afraid of meeting him."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"I'd be happy to supply you with anything else you need -- but we can consider this leg of the commission done," Myunghon does smile softly as Yusuke says that he has no intention of giving up. In response to that, they rise to the counter to work on something for a moment, then returns with a familiar envelope -- money, again.

"The monthly commission fee, upfront," Myunghon nods. It feels a bit weightier than before. Did they sneak a bonus?

They listen more intently and gently as Yusuke shares of the horrors Madarame exposed them all too, though. There's a deep frown that crosses their features. It's no doubt that the Phantom Thieves acted on those... distorted 'desires'. Still, it doesn't excuse what he did... though it makes them wonder what would've happened if Madarame simply just... was happy with what he did. Such evils exist. They can't reach them, if they have no Palace.

What then?

The thought is unpleasant, so they put it aside. "Unfortunately, I can say such vile practices also existed in the corporate world, before I left. Even in the position I was in, there was much incentive to... 'beat out the competition', even amongst your peers. That we dwell in such a society that has allowed such rot to take hold..."

They exhale gently.

"... I understand that fear. I do think that he is a kind man, however -- when I was attacked by that awful police officer and severely injured," that happened??? "He offered to do laundry at his parent's service for me at a time I would have just run out of clothes, even coming here to pick them up for me..."

Myunghon places their finger to their lip for a moment, in thought.

"But... I do leave the choice to you, of course. Just know that I am willing to help."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yusuke Kitagawa has posed.
<poem>Yusuke's eyebrows raise as he takes the envelope, noticing its weight. "I'll keep trying," he says, firmly.

He frowns as Myunghon talks about how the corporate world encourages similar ruthlessness from the people on that ladder. "... I can see why you prefer this arrangement," he says, looking around at the store. "It's quite pleasant here."

If only he knew the horrors dwelling merely one floor over their heads.

His frown intensifies as Myunghon explains further about the violence they faced, and how Masao helped them afterwards. "... I see," he says, quietly. "Well, in that case, please do reach out to him."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It is quite pleasant here! Myunghon Yeo devotes a lot of energy to ensuring that their customers and friends find this a safe and pleasant space. There's even been additions over time, like the game console and now the ever-present trickle of baked goods to keep people coming back...

Of course, the third floor is just for them. So they don't need to try, there.

That's how it works, right?

"All right," Myunghon nods, a little more encouraged as Yusuke agrees. "I'll let you know by text then, if he does agree. I'm about due to see him again anyhow..." A pause. "Things have been quite busy and... perhaps less safe than they used to be."

They plaster a smile afterwards before a look of concern can creep up over their face. "Thank you for the prints, Kitagawa-kun. And, please feel free to have the rest of the cookies too."

They can just tell this teen definitely needs the calories when he can afford to get them.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-27: One Last Birthday Part Two

2025-12-03T06:45:26Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: One Last Birthday Part Two''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Shinjiro Aragaki, Mio Kazama, Remi Ryuuja, Shinobu Shimizu, So-young Park *'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' November 28, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 17, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''The Cardboard Dragon crew prepares a get-together now that Shinjiro is back from Yakushima. Gifts are exchanged, and even a cooking contest is had!'' ---- <Pose Tracker>..."

*'''Log: One Last Birthday Part Two'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Shinjiro Aragaki]], [[Mio Kazama]], [[Remi Ryuuja]], [[Shinobu Shimizu]], [[So-young Park]]
*'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' November 28, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 17, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''The Cardboard Dragon crew prepares a get-together now that Shinjiro is back from Yakushima. Gifts are exchanged, and even a cooking contest is had!''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
SEES is back from Yakushima, and Myunghon's gotten in touch with people about hosting a small get-together for Shinjiro's birthday. They've also conspired with Shinobu and Remi and Mio to get some secret equipment and training, which becomes very readily apparent when people turn up on the day...

Because the back lot that's often just described as 'somewhere you might see Yakuza fighting' has been turned into something kinda special -- and there's a griddle set up with an open tent where the purveyor of the Cardboard Dragon is currently...

Cooking??????

That's right, Myunghon's dressed in an apron and is in the midst of cooking okonomiyaki, letting others help them with the batter and toppings. There's a little stage for, assumedly, So-young to go play some music, and there's drinks on a table opposite the tent; the fire escape stairs to the Cardboard Dragon itself is still open, with the door pinned open where people can retire to the couch to go play games or watch television, and some board games have also been set up on the poker tables that the customers typically use.

"I have one with pork and cabbage ready to serve," Myunghon calls as they flip the finished pancake again and places it on one of the serving plates (disposable paper, with similar disposable utensils, cause it's not like Myunghon owns that much cutlery).

The okonomiyaki is... perhaps, better than one would expect from someone who can't smell or taste -- Myunghon's just been grinding out the recipe on BooTube videos for a few days now in secret and just has to trust that the process works.

Of course, it's nowhere near Shinjiro's level...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>As Shinjiro enters the back lot, he's clad in his usual red coat and beanie again (the one Myunghon got him). It's like he's never been without it...

He's got a slightly melancholic look on his face, but it's not clear from what. Is it being done with his trip? His usual depression? Or more likely... the fact he still thinks he doesn't deserve all of this.

Given that he's staring at the tent and grill set-up with wide eyes, it's probably that last one.

He approaches the grill, rubbing the back of his head. "...you didn't need to do all of this, Myunghon." There's a tone of appreciation, but also just nervous energy.

And then, he's eying the food. "...that smells good, though." He knows it's not of his skill level, but frankly, he doesn't care. The gesture is greatly appreciated.

"I can help, if you need it," Shinjiro says as he looks over the setup. Myunghon would be unaware that he grilled all the food for SEES on his birthday out of a similar desire to 'make up for the inconvenience'.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
<poem> Despite not being much of a skilled hand in the kitchen, there are things that Mio can do to help out with the birthday preparations. For one, she has the driver's license and has been ferrying around whatever Myunghon has needed her to go fetch. Two, she has enough passing knowledge of how to hook up speakers and gadgets to help the stage setup come to life. And also to pipe in some music for when no live acts are happening. Three, she has no fear in rolling up her sleeves to get stuck in with things she has little to no knowledge about! There's nothing guts can't overcome!

Which is why the gal with pink hair has a ball-cap fitted backwards, a long-sleeve shirt tied around her waist, and is scooting around in the background doing things like dicing up ingredients (albeit slowly) for Myunghon to cook with at the main station, or refilling the squeezy bottle of cooking oil, or making sure the drinks are all properly on ice. "Hokay! That oughta last us for a few minutes, at least!" she declares with typical aplomb, hands on hips. Jack of all trades, master of none.

A party is a team effort, after all!
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
Remi is allowing Myunghon to cook since it seems really important to them to do so.

... but that doesn't mean she's not standing by with a fire extinguisher, just in chase. That's her duty as Chief Lieutenant of the Cardboard Dragon. Probably. (She's honestly still not ''entirely'' clear what her actual duties are.)

In less foreboding news she is actually doing her best to see that the other arrangements are in order. This might not be the most conventional soiree she has ever participated in (in no small part because most people would call this a party and not be so fancy about it), but she ''does'' still recall some of her social graces and hospitality.

She also offered to help taste-test Myunghon's cooking grind. Sometimes having no fear is a benefit.

She also got Shijiro a birthday gift, set aside to wait for an appropriate time.

"Happy birthday, Aragaki-kun," says Remi warmly as she spots the birthday boy. But at the offer to take over-- "Nonsense. If Myunghon tires of cooking ''I'' shall take over in their stead. ''Your'' job is to relax and enjoy yourself."
Shizuka Kuroki has arrived from Historia: The White Chronicle.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>A birthday party for Shinjiro, huh... Shinobu was surprised when the idea was presented to her - but when asked to help, she gladly pitches in. She's not so great at party planning, but the actual physical work side of things is something she's more than capable of doing.

With everything actually put up and assembled now, she's sitting back in one of the folding chairs that have been set up(and tipping back just a ''little'' dangerously, but that's Shinobu for you), tossing a small, wrapped box up and down in her hand as the scent of okonomiyaki wafts through the air.

"Looking pretty good..." Shinobu notes to Myunghon about their cooking. ...She's pretty impressed at how far they've come in their cooking. They really put their all into planning for this day. "I think everything came together nicely."

Shinjiro speaks up... and she's not surprised that his first instinct is to ask to do some work.

"She's got a point, Shinjiro." Shinobu comments with a nod at Remi, as she says that it's his job to relax and enjoy himself. She nods, then, at the serving plates. "Go ahead. Grab a bite and take a seat. See? Mio's got us all covered."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> The moment that Shinjiro appears around the corner, So-young has pulled the string on three party poppers held between her splayed fingers, the saddest collection of dismal looking paper streamers arcing from the stage in the rough direction of the young man's head. They fall short, of course, but the conductor only looks more enthused by how crap the party favors have done at trying to be jaunty.

Alongside Remi, she's already taste tested some of Myunghon's work just through sheer curiosity as to how well her sibling is handling a grill without being able to stomach the food directly. Even habitual bacheloress So-young knows that as one of the primary rules of cooking - but she has been forced to admit she's extremely impressed at the result. While she hasn't actually played anything yet, the little stage has been claimed as hers if only because her violin case is there, and a drink next to it, and a paper plate next to that. That's how dibs work.

Scooping something up from behind her case, she hops down from the stage, walks up towards Shinjiro - and reaches up to bonk him on the head with a slim gift-wrapped box. "Yes, yes. We didn't need to do all of this," she can't do the deep voice, but she at least do a passable impression of the nervous wistfulness. "Good job that we chose to do it of our own accord, then."

(She's tried her best. The present is a fairly simple but high-quality journal - bound in black leather, because she has every expectation (and intention) that it'll end up weathering the elements in his coat pocket.)
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
For Remi and So-young's assurance, perhaps, Myunghon isn't being an anime mad scientist -- just a BooTube scientist, following a recipe to the letter and trying to mimic every stage of cooking to the letter, with just a need for a few guinea pigs -- okay, perhaps just a little bit of a mad scientist. But hey... it's not bad, especially for a first go-live.

They've delegated the hardest parts, such as not being able to do knifework, to Mio and Remi, since there's no pressure to make this a commercial kitchen or anything, and Remi's also on deck if they get tired. After a few times teaching them to leave it alone for a bit and you gotta let it cook, it does seem like they understand the relation to Thing on Heat fairly quickly...

Fire Extinguisher-kun hasn't had to be used yet.

"Have you had one yet, Kazama-kun? Why don't you take this one?" Myunghon offers, as they place the concoction onto a serving plate, taking up the ingredients to organise them. This is undeniably Myunghon's strength in cooking -- everything is ridiculously in order.

Shinobu's in the back chilling, but that's totally fine -- Myunghon needed her help to do all the heavy lifting and such! They call out, perhaps a bit fonder than normal, "What do you want on yours, Shinobu-ssi?"

But Shinjiro arrives to the sound of -TOOT-! Triple toot, even. Or maybe it's more of a pop. There's a pleased smile as Shinjiro, expectedly, says that they didn't need to do all of this -- then they tease, "I bet you cooked for everyone in Yakushima. Well, okonomiyaki has become something a bit special for us, so I wanted to surprise you by cooking it when you came."

Another one comes up -- this one's got the same ingredients as the one Shinjiro cooked. "Now, I don't expect mercy just because this is my first time." They've got all the toppings in order, and hands it over to him. "Happy birthday, Shinjiro-ssi."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>The streamers miss! Shinjiro is saved, as he blinks twice owlishly.

Mio and Remi get nods as they help cook, before Shinjiro turns over the INSISTENCE in his head. "Yeah, but-"

Shinobu backs up Remi, and then So-young appears and bonks him on the head!!! Help help, he's being brutalized!

"Uuuugh," he says, rubbing behind his neck with both hands. Myunghon then follows up with a tease about cooking for everyone in Yakushima, and the 'but-' protestation he almost says again makes it clear they nailed it 100%, he did indeed.

"...thank you," he settles on. It's clear he has *no idea* how to relax anymore, as he just awkwardly shuffles for a moment, taking the plate.

He moves over to take a bite of it, tossing it around in his head how it tastes for a minute before settling on, "I like it."

He's not just saying that, though he does follow it up with a small laugh. "...There's some things I would have done differently, but it's nice. Thank you."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
<poem> Mio could probably go all afternoon with little more than a drink of water, and so needs to be cajoled into taking a break. Luckily, Myunghon is there to keep her from being a workaholic. "Oh--yeah, I'm hungry! Thanks Myunghon!" she's as chipper as ever, accepting the plate with a huge grin before skipping aside to blast the okonomiyaki with mayonnaise, bonito flakes, parsley, and sansho pepper. "Hehe... you really got the hang of these things in the end. Aren'tcha proud?"

She also blasts Shinobu with a big thumbs up from over yonder, a plastic fork bobbing out of her mouth while she does so. "Yeah! I got us covered!"

Which is how she somehow juggles the serving of okonomiyaki with party duties, joining in call to fire party-poppers as Shinjiro arrives. "Heyyy, here's the star...!" it isn't like everyone organized a huge serve of fireworks, perhaps thankfully.

Don't worry, despite being all over the place at the best of times, Mio hasn't forgotten why we are all gathered here today! She holds up one finger briefly and goes, "Oh! Wait a sec!" before ducking beneath one of the tables to fetch something she has stashed there. It is a box, gift-wrapped in the most comically obvious fashion: dark maroon paper tied with a black ribbon. Said box is slightly taller than it is wide, is more intended to be held in two hands than one, and weighs a good few pounds. It is probably about 13-14 inches high, for reference.

"A good birthday needs a good present! Happy birthday, Shinji-kun!"

(Whether it's unwrapped now or later, it contains: one of those fancy schmancy Shun kitchen knives with the faint damascus patterning)

"Ehehe, if it's too heavy to carry home, I can drop it off somewhere for ya."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
Shinobu backs her up on Shinjiro relaxing, and Remi affords her a grateful smile. "Thankj you, dear." Surely Shinjiro can't argue with the power of ''multiple adults''?

aRemi is genuinely impressed with how Myunghon's cooking efforts have paid off... and she'll complement them on it, too. She had Yua to help teach her, and she couldn't imagine trying to learn by following along with a video.

She catches that fondness in Myunghon's voice as they call to Shinobu, and smiles faintly to herself.

And a faint chuckle as Myunghon's guess about Shinjiro cooking at Yakushima hits true. "Sit, take a load off," she insists, as Shinjiro looks uncertain. "And, enjoy the present." She has something, of course, as several others do, and she retrieves several small, wrapped packages.

They're books! Several fiction books of various genres to enrich Shinjiro's literary palette (including her all-time favorite, The Three Muskteers), and... a cookbook! One featuring French cuisine.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>"See? We're in good hands." Shinobu adds as Mio offers her a thumbs-up. Remi thanks her for the back-up, and Shinobu nods her way. "Any time."

So-young ambushes Shinjiro, and Shinobu smirks before looking toward Myunghon as they call out to her. Shinobu considers the question smiling just slightly at that fond tone, before eventually deciding,

"I'll take a little bit of everything." She replies.

"...Sounds like they've got you there." She notes to Shinjiro, as he begins to protest. She catches the box in her hand one final time and rocks her chair forward, standing up with the momentum. She moves to approach him, adding the box to the pile.

"...Happy birthday, man. Didn't know which ones you liked most, so kind of went off vibes." She says.

It might not immediately be clear what she means by 'which ones', but it becomes a little more obvious once the box is opened. Inside is a wooden figurine of a wolf... or maybe a dog? It's hand-carved, clearly, and as a result of some indecision in the carving the features are kind of in-between.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young probably cannot be trusted with a kitchen knife, in much the same way that a dog cannot be trusted with a flamethrower. This is fine; the conductor knows her limits well, and other people can handle the cooking probably much better than she can. She would probably try to say something profound about being the audience in this case, and thus being the consumer of art rather than the producer, but it's unlikely that would fool anyone here.

Of course she has an actual streamer, or at least she has one of those rolls of decorative paper that you unfurl into a long spiral shape, draping it over Shinjiro's shoulders without reservation if only to be mildly annoying. "I hope the trip went well, at least, or that you weren't this stiff the whole time," she sniggers, before moving back to the stage to perch herself on one corner of it.

"I do hope you got photos, as well. Don't think I haven't forgotten," she adds with a dangerous smirk, before shuffling across to give Mio and the others some space to sit. (Sure, there's some outside chairs around, but if you give So-young a stage she will just assume that everyone will sit on it at some point.)

The conductor hasn't forgotten that she probably owes a few people some apologies, but she's not really the sort to do great at apologiz_ing_, and kind of just hopes that fact comes across in the vaguely thoughtful present rather than an incredibly off-colour one.

"Well, we are slowly learning," she notes to Shinobu. "I think the main trick is to just not give him time to open his mouth or engage his brain. You'd be amazed how many people that technique is good for."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Mio's compliment does have them bashful. "You're helping me out. Not having to cut anything does make it a lot easier," they take the humble route. "But this is more fun than I thought..."

Her present -- a fancy damascus knife -- does impress Myunghon. It looks very fancy, what kinda connections does Mio have that she's sourced that from? Mio's got the whole shebang of toppings on there, though, and they have to admit, "I've never had anything like that... what does it taste like?"

Myunghon's had some coaching from Remi too, undoubtedly, and much like So-young, found their limits. They're never going to be great at certain kitchen tasks, given their arms and senses, and finding ways around that has helped them more than despairing about it. "It is nice that it isn't too hot tonight... I was a bit concerned."

Shinobu's dogwolf is a thing of true beauty. Perhaps, later, it will become a true effigy of power that will power some kind of dual tech. Is it a dog? Is it a wolf? What if it embodies the best of both worlds, like some sort of half-dog, half-wolf... heck hound?

Myunghon does have a blink-and-you'll-miss it pause as Shinjiro shuffles and doesn't relax. They've rehearsed this possibility a million times in their head because they know it's gonna happen, but it's still something to be handling it in person and not panic and scream internally. Fortunately, everyone else is more confident because their first reaction is to not panic and insist, and there's merit in the wrecking ball method (so to speak)...

... and he is laughing at the okonomiyaki, and they decide to tilt their head to say:

"Hmmm. If you're that confident, then perhaps we should have a little contest for Shinobu-ssi's okonomiyaki. And we can make a bit extra so others can judge too," they challenge, for a moment having a cattish grin on their face.

Which is a little at odds at getting Shinjiro to take a load off, but they did think having him get a bit of a hands on fun would be a positive experience.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>Shinjiro finishes his plate (he did enjoy it!) before looking over the presents. A knife... "Oh, that's *real* nice, thank you," he says appreciatively if a bit sheepishly just because he imagines it was Expensive.

Remi's books also gets a nod, looking over them and tilting his head positively. "These look good, too. Dumas is one I've been meaning to read." He's not quite sitting yet, though...

As Shinobu presents DOGWOLF. His eyes actually *light up at this one*, something he very much appreciates. He can tell it's handmade, too, "Shinobu, you didn't-" he says with a laugh, before allowing it to wash off. "Thank you."

So-young's journal is also very much appreciated - his old tiny notebook has gotten pretty beaten up and used, so... "Thanks. I'll start transferring notes later..."

If she's still sheepish about what happened at all, he's fine. He likely hasn't *forgotten*, but forgiven... yeah. "I've got some good photos. Me and Aki saw a deer up-close..." That was a good one.

Though, as Myunghon challenges him to COOKING, he tilts his head. He's a bit confused... but he is, slowly warming up to all of this, even if theres still tension in him.

"...you're on."

He'll move over towards the grill, removing his gloves and pocketing them.

"Don't get too upset when I beat you, though," he teases back. If Myunghon thought this would help him relax - they're probably right.

Though, before he starts, he's reminded. "Oh, I have news. I talked to Kirijo, and..."

"I decided to go back to school next semester... while I still have time."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
<poem> Mio has had a while to think about Myunghon's relationship with food, and so, doesn't have to think too hard about it when asked, to find a way that makes sense. "What's it like? Umu~. It's a couple layers deep, right? It's crunchy, then soft, then mellow, then spicy from behind." it's more an explanation of the textures than the tastes, per se. "It's good!"

As for the knife, well...

NOT LONG AGO~...

A group of men in dark sunglasses huddle around a mahjong table, either nursing cigarettes at their lips or fingertips. A hazy cloud of grey smoke drifts above them, a reflection of the stormy mood of this game. A burly man with a gold chain and a white singlet takes a long drag on his prize, then casually fires twin jets of smoke from his nose. "Riichi, motherfuckers."

But this isn't about them, actually. This is about the kitchen attached to this den of sin, the front for this... Mahjong Parlour. And in the kitchen, head chef and ex-con Daisuke Ota is explaining in surprising detail to a familiar, church-working idol fanatic as he chops half a cabbage with only one eye on it. "Good knife? 's gotta hold its edge, and that don't come cheap. Grip shouldn't be anything that'll get screwed up by the heat, either." Mio rubs her chin, immune to the controlled chaos as kitchen hands run around in their quest to keep up with the demand for udon and oyakodon. "I guess if yer guy isn't doing any commercial shit, you could try one of these. I know a guy who found a bunch that fell off a truck, right?"

A grin splits both their faces.

***

Anyway, back in the present, Mio is helping by getting more utensils dug out for the impromptu cooking challenge. "I hope everyone's hungry, 'cause I was brought up to never let a bite go to waste, y'know?"
+ooc :lean
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>So-young's response gets an actual laugh out of Shinobu.

"Yeah, I guess that's one way to do it." She replies with a shrug, then nods toward Myunghon. "Yeah, it's nice. Here's hoping the

Shinjiro accepts her gift - and seeing him actually light up gets an earnest smile out of her.

"It's a hobby of mine. Figured I'd put it to good use." She offers, and nods at his thanks. "No problem."

She moves to return to her seat, then... and it seems Myunghon has a Plan, because they challenge Shinjiro to a cooking contest. She raises an eyebrow, but smirks.

"Sounds good to me." Shinobu says. ...She's biased because she's the one who gets to benefit, here - but it ''is'' a pretty good plan, she thinks.

"You know it." Shinobu agrees with a nod toward Mio... but then, suddenly, Shinjiro has an announcement!

"No shit?" Shinobu replies, surprised, as he announces... he's returning to school! "Hey, congrats. I'm proud of you. Do you already have everything you need?"

School might have been a rough time for her, but she's glad she ''went''. She thinks it'll be a good thing for him, too, to finish up.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>So-young's response gets an actual laugh out of Shinobu.

"Yeah, I guess that's one way to do it." She replies with a shrug, then nods toward Myunghon. "Yeah, it's nice. Here's hoping the weather holds out, yeah?"

Shinjiro accepts her gift - and seeing him actually light up gets an earnest smile out of her.

"It's a hobby of mine. Figured I'd put it to good use." She offers, and nods at his thanks. "No problem."

She moves to return to her seat, then... and it seems Myunghon has a Plan, because they challenge Shinjiro to a cooking contest. She raises an eyebrow, but smirks.

"Sounds good to me." Shinobu says. ...She's biased because she's the one who gets to benefit, here - but it ''is'' a pretty good plan, she thinks.

"You know it." Shinobu agrees with a nod toward Mio... but then, suddenly, Shinjiro has an announcement!

"No shit?" Shinobu replies, surprised, as he announces... he's returning to school! "Hey, congrats. I'm proud of you. Do you already have everything you need?"

School might have been a rough time for her, but she's glad she ''went''. She thinks it'll be a good thing.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
Remi looks on with interest as Shinobu offers her gift. "My, Shimizu-san, did you carve that yourself? How delightful." Yes, she sees the indecision, but she won't comment on it. It's more skilled than she could do, taht's for certain. (And it's not like she didn't also cover her own bases with her gift selection.)

So-young offers a ''technique'', and Remi chuckles softly at that. "Yes, dearl, it can be ''remarkalbly'' effective, when used with the right sorts."

Remi would have gladly offered coaching... and done her best, now that she is more understanding of Myunghon's limits, to try and work around those issues, too. "The weather turned out quite pleasantly, I agree. And do not be afraid to take a break if you would like, dear," Remi offers to Myunghon.

"Yes, he is a ''personal'' favorite of mine, and if you like this work there are others I can recommend... but I thought it would do to give you a variety of books to expand your palette with."

Kirijo... Remi recognizes that name, but she sets that aside for now, focusing on the news. "That's ''wonderful'', dear. I ''do'' hope you will enjoy the rigors of academia."

Remi takes a seat when Mio expresses enthusiasm for the contest. "It shall certainly be interesting, won't it, dear?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> Just as Mio might be better doing crimes than Myunghon, So-young leans back and lets her gaze zoom out on the scene in an introspective moment, letting herself think: Myunghon might be more of a social creature than she is. They seem much more alive like this, surrounded by people, whereas the musician will often crash face-first into independence, and is just at home on her own. There's no real upside or downside to that, and she's comfortable with who she is. It's just a passing thought.

"It is--" she goes to add to Mio's description, and then frowns at the realization that she's a bit lost at how to compare the taste of food if not to other food. She's never exactly been a prime wordsmith compared to other forms of art. "--very good. A little more heat would be nice, but I can always just use condiments for that. You have the base down."

"Oh, no. Did they bite you in the ass?" So-young asks point-blank at mention of deer, before realizing she should probably elaborate. "Every time I think 'I'll just feed them one cracker' and every time one of them startles me enough to drop the entire pack and then it's just a free-for-all. Carnage everywhere, people yelling, sirens." Hopefully... she's... joking about those last parts, her expression held in a careful deadpan.

Her shrug towards Shinobu is expansive as she breaks back into a light grin. This is the person who seemed completely unruffled at the idea of standing out in the rain so long as she could spend a few more seconds watching the fireworks, a position so at odds with her usual vanity that it seems hard to reconcile the two. "If it rains, it rains. I suppose I could have stolen the gazebo from work--" she means a tent, not a structure... probably... "--but even packed up it is a chore to carry, let alone onto a train."

"To be honest, I tend to use it on absolutely everyone, regardless of whether it works or not," So-young grins towards Remi with a smirk, before Shinjiro's news percolates through to her. "... hmm," is her first thought as she mulls it over and wonders what to say. It's not exactly what she would do with her time, but she can at least accept it if it's something Shinjiro feels he wants to do. So it is thankfully with a nod of approval that she adds: "Speaking of which, make sure to assert yourself. This is something you've chosen to do, so do not let anyone dissuade you."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
If So-young pointed the fact that Myunghon is more of a social creature than she is, they'd utterly disbelieve her. But then again, only roughly two months ago, they were more prone to being alone in depressive jags and also was indulging in Magic River Teleportation! That they've come from that to hosting a little get-together with their friends and found family is...

It might just be progress.

"Hmm... I'm pleased. I can tell when it's 'done', now, and I can always use a timer," Myunghon remarks, about food. Still very measured and precise. Her story about deer as Shinjiro mentions it has them extremely quizzical, perhaps, because they haven't really ''been'' a tourist around Japan, but you do hear stories about deer in rural regions sometimes...

"After this competition, would you mind taking over, Remi dear?" Myunghon reassures Remi, because they've been going at it for half an hour now and it is more exhausting than they expected. It's their way of reassuring her they're not pushing too hard either.

"Even if it does rain, we can just move inside," Myunghon remarks to Shinobu, adding to Shinjiro, "Because I did rent out the next Amazing Pet Story movie to wrap the night up." This is a remarkable act of Guts because Myunghon got ABSOLUTELY DESTROYED with the last one and now everyone's here to see them bawl their tearducts out.

It's a gesture of trust, you know.

Mio observes that the food is all kinds of textures and -- honestly, that ''is'' a way Myunghon can relate to food, so they do look down to say, "I wonder if I could also..." A pause. There'd be way too many intense flavours in there, but now they're curious after what Mio described.....

But, it's time for the contest. They hand Shinjiro another apron, and conspicuously there's basically a second station on the other side of the grill already prepared for him, like they planned all this the entire time.

"Even if you're the expert, this rookie isn't going to go down so easily," Myunghon confidently says in turn. Before they start, though, Shinjiro has news -- he's decided to go back to school... and Myunghon quietly nods in assurance to the others' approval as well.

"Hmmm... no doubt the others in Tatsumi are quite pleased too. I am too, of course," Myunghon offers, a smile as So-young points out to not be dissuaded by others.

"Now! Let the cooking contest begin!"

This is a whole bit of bravado for something that, ultimately, is a pancake at the bottom layer and just needs to sit there for a bit -- and they know they're doomed because they've just learnt from one BooTube video, haiyaaaah, but Shinjiro gets to show off here...!
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>Mio gets a nod about the textures. He's a good cook but he hates talking in food speak, especially if he doesn't know if someone will get it. completely. "Thanks, Mio. Yeah, I don't waste food either." Though, reasons may be different.

Shinobu gets a nod. "Kirijo's gonna get it all set up. I assume if there's something I need she'll get it setup. Dreading makeup tests, though."

A shake of a head to Remi, as she tells him to enjoy it. "I probably won't. I've never liked school." Then why...?

"But I made a promise to graduate with my friends. So I'm going to fulfill that before time runs out." In the moment, he forgets he hasn't quite told Remi his condition. He doesn't speak to her as often, and the others know, so.

But DEER. Shinjiro's pulling out his phone, flashing a picture to So-young. It's in the forest in Okinawa, a deer standing there, looking around. It's a good shot, taken quickly and clearly. "There's more like this. I'll send them to the group chat later."

Though, she tells him not let anyone dissuade him. "...if it would have been anyone, it'd be me. But I told Kirijo I'm coming back. I think she'd literally kidnap me and chain me to my desk if I walked it back now." She might.

As Shinjiro tosses his apron on, he considers the earlier mention of the movie. "...I can't believe you're going to make me watch that around the others..." It doesn't sound disapproving, but he DOES know his tough guy aura that totally entirely still existed... will be destroyed.

(who are we kidding, they all know he's a softie)

But then, they get to the cooking. It's one thing to taste Shinjiro's cooking. It's another to watch him in the kitchen. He has a confidence of someone who could have gone *very* far in this industry... his knifework is good, his speed is good, and he has the magic touch when it comes to juuuust enough seasoning.

Also, he's not holding back AT ALL, Myunghon definitely got his competitive side going.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
<poem>Before anything can get too far underway, Mio has raced around to separate out a little collection of plates. No point in having people wait around, taking precious seconds off the golden minute between grill and mouth...! And upon Remi's query as to whether a culinary competition will be interesting, Mio shows no signs of dithering or uncertainty. "Mm! Yeah, I've never had a cookoff competition before!" with both fists clenched. Perhaps this feels like a celebration a long time coming, to her? How curious.

"And--uh, going back to school is good, y'know? But it's gonna feel tough, so, hang in there." Mio advises Shinjiro with a sly little grin, trying not to err too much on the side of adulting (something she is not good at). She swerves on over to the music setup, ad-hoc as it is, and fiddles with the bass knob while Shinjiro and Myunghon get set up for cooking. With a glance over her shoulder, she locks gazes with So-Young. "Hey, come use some music smarts and help me find something good for this!"

In the tangle of wires and aux cords there is an off-brand mp3 player, so, there's probably at least a sizable library of stuff to leaf through... maybe...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Shinobu offers Remi a nod, in answer to her question.

"Yeah. Just something I do in my off time. It's great for stress relief. Just get yourself a block of wood and a good knife and take your frustrations out on it until somethin' starts to take shape." She offers.

So-young gets a small laugh, and Shinobu nods as Myunghon points out that they can just move inside.

"Yeah, guess there's no use worrying about it." She agrees. ...Amazing Pet Story, huh... It sounds like something they both legitimately enjoy, so she isn't going to judge.

"Yeah? Good to hear." Shinobu replies with a nod, as Shinjiro explains. Makeup tests... She grins. "...Yeah, ''that's'' probably gonna be hell."

Mio tells him to hang in there, and Shinobu nods.

"What she said. If you need any help studying..." ...She pauses. "...Okay, I'm probably not the best person to ask, but there's probably ''someone'' around here who can give you a hand."

A promise to graduate, huh...? She thinks on that - and nods.

"Good on you, man. It's good to keep your promises." She decides.

The cooking contest is on!! Shinobu watches with interest. ...Shinjiro really isn't holding anything back, huh? She only cooks for herself so her own skills are nothing special, but even she can tell he's got some real experience behind that knife...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
Remi chuckles to So-young at her admission. "Yes, dear, I have no doubt that you do."

She offers Myunghon a smile and a nod, "''Certainly'', dear. You've been doing quite well, but I wager you're ready for a break. You should get to enjoy the efforts of your work, too."

"Amazing Pet Stories...?" Remi ponders out loud, if to herself. "I am not familiar..."

REmi might understand more of Shinjiro's condition than he thinks. But Shinjiro does explain about the promise. "I see... well then. That is a admirable goal, and I wish you luck in your endeavor." She looks to Myunghon, recalling, for a moment, her own high school days. How things were happier then.

And in some ways, with a large chunk of her life stolen, they still feel so... recent, too. The four of them, hanging out... how times have changed, and their situations have grown more complicated.

"I admit," Remi says to Mio. "That I would not be confident enough in my own skills for such a thing. But perhaps Myunghon has a trick of their sleeve. What do you think?"

"I see," she answers Shinobu next. "Well it seems you have made a delightful gift. Wood carving is not something I have ever thought to try... my artistic expression is of a rather more dramatic nature, but it may be interesting to try sometime."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "Oh, _actual_ deer!" So-young realizes with an amused laugh, as if the ones in tourist spots at Nara are somehow imaginary creatures or animatronics deliberately designed to mob unsuspecting tourists to make them spend more on 200 yen packs of vanity crackers. Maybe they are. Maybe they're just an NWO conspiracy in this world. "That is quite the lucky shot indeed, especially if you managed to take more than one before it bolted."

She looks to Myunghon, and then nback to Shinjiro's promise, and lightly purses her lips. "Well, certainly I am sure you will have the support of Miss Kirijo and the others. But I had meant more--..." Unthinkably So-young trails off, folding her arms. "Honestly, I am a little worried I will end up dissuading you myself by saying this, but chances are you will meet at least one teacher who goes 'you can't just show up like this!' All I am saying is that the best way to deal with someone like that is to prove them extremely wrong."

"... I have my violin right here! Philistines," she exclaims to Mio, but with a grin on her face as she hops up to squint amongst the wires down to the little screen on the MP3 player, flicking the little button on it left and right as she seeks back and forth though the files in apparent indecisiveness before settling on what could be called some driving music, a rising doof-doof climbing up the volume scale as if to egg the competitors on. "... honestly, for a cookoff, you need something really climactic. If we had a drum kit I would be much better served."

So-young picks immediately up on Shinobu's comment. "I always thought I'd make a good teacher," she decides with apparently no shame whatsoever, her hand beneath her chin as she strikes a pose. "It's certainly another field that would be ripe for some fresh new faces in it, if I look back at my time at school. I think I'd manage a pretty engaging curriculum. 'Class, today we will learn why 11/8 time is absolute nonsense and why you should stick two fingers up at whoever tries to make you play it, me included.'"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Mio and So-young's gone to go pick some more beats out, and Myunghon doesn't seem to mind. "Perhaps we should have more regular get-togethers? I wouldn't mind... this is all very fond to me. Whose birthday is next?" So-young has some concerns, but... ultimately, it's on Shinjiro to prove them all wrong. "That's always been the Cardboard Dragon's energy, yes? Kaneshiro wouldn't have an inkling as to what hit him."

"I don't think Amazing Pet Stories is something we should feel shame in enjoying," Myunghon insists to Shinjiro. "Besides, I'm pretty certain I came out of it worse last time." There's a quiet smile as they think more upon the promise to go back to school, though. "... you know, I often think of myself as-- wasting my school years, in a sense. Remi might have another opinion, but it did feel as if I just drifted from day to day."

When Shinobu points out that she might not be the best person to ask, though, they suddenly look proud as they say:

"This may surprise you, but I ''was'' Student Council President in our time. Remi can confirm this," Myunghon points out. "... so much so that meeting Kirijo felt a little like deja vu, to be honest."

But the contest!

At one point during the contest, Myunghon is heard expressing:

"Oh... how come yours has a much nicer colour in the end?"
"You have to put that much effort into it...? I can't see what they're doing in the video, so..."

And:

"You can do WHAT with cheese? That's... that's... cheating..."

...

...

...

The contest isn't that much of a contest, really, with Shinjiro's okonomiyaki looking resplendent and marvellous and restaurant grade and Myunghon appears to be doing a little worse than five minutes ago as the PRESSURE gets to them. It's a bit lumpy and...

Myunghon spends ten seconds staring between the two of them.

Then they put their hands to their waist and looks at Shinobu, especially.

"T-this one's made with love, okay? Keep that in mind when judging!"

Choose wisely, Shinobu. Your decision may affect The Timeline...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>Mio gets a nod as she advises Shinjiro, the teen clearly appreciating the sentiment. Music!!

Shinobu also gets a nod. "Don't worry. Umie's helping too," he explains.

Though, keeping his promises... he hopes he can, at least. He can't guarantee it anymore.

Remi wishes him luck. "Thanks." He has no idea her own inner turmoil... they might need to talk sometime, at least about his.

So-young laughs about the deer. "What'd you think I meant?!" Though, then, he considers the rest of her statement. "Don't worry... as I said, this is something I have to do. No teacher's gonna stop me."

Shinjiro rubs the back of his head when it comes to Amazing Pet Stories... but he understands what they're saying. "Fine... and, yeah, we should do this more often. It's... nice."

And that means a lot coming from him.
THE CONTEST BEGINS.

Shinjiro focuses, though he does explain a few tricks during it. (Except the cheese one. That one's a secret.) As they move to present, he looks over them, and he's in a good mood by now - mission accomplished.

"...and mine isn't?" he asks Myunghon, however. He puts love in his cooking too!!! Though, he's mostly joking.

Mostly.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
<poem> It's probably for the best that Shinobu or Myunghon, or similar, be the ones to offer Shinjiro a hand studying. Mio's academic record is markedly middling, but that's a story for another, more self-reflective and indulgent day. Today is birfday party, after all. And, focused on the competition of the day, Mio gives thought to Remi's question: does Myunghon have a trick up their sleeve?

Why, the answer is obvious. "Of course! The boss always has a plan B, that's how they always come out on top." Mio has zero hesitation in her belief in Myunghon. Oh dear. She relinquishes control over the music station to So-Young, even if begrudgingly, given that the hobbyist idol stan has absolutely no business trying to figure out acoustics compared to a professional performer.

The third question is raised, from Myunghon: should they do this more often? Once more, the answer is clear. "Yeah, we should hang out properly more often! I like bein' busy like this. I like the energy." she beams happily, and settles down on crossed legs to watch the actual cooking, and cheer on the competition. ... and increasingly look nervous as Myunghon goes to bits under pressure, but, ah well.

"I--it's not about who wins and loses, right, team...?" she asks innocently, twisting her ball cap so that it sits with the brim facing forward again. "It's about doing stuff together...!"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>"Thanks. Glad you think so." Shinobu replies to Remi with a nod.

So-young, meanwhile, says she'd make a great teacher. Shinobu laughs at her comment - and then ''Myunghon'' says that they were Student Council President.

"Oh yeah?" Shinobu remarks with interest. ...But Umie's helping, too, and Shinobu nods.

"Sounds like you've got a lot of good choices, then." She comments with a nod.

And then... it begins. Shinobu listens and watches the two of them as they work - and, finally, the final results are presented.

...On looks alone, Shinjiro is the clear winner. And on taste... that too, probably.

...But then, Myunghon hits her where it hurts.

Oh no.

...Shinobu swallows. This might be a more difficult battle than any she's faced so far...

She takes a bit of one, and then the other...

Her expression is serious.

"U-uh, yeah. It isn't about who wins or loses... They're both really good. Uh..." She starts, agreeing with Mio - but she knows that isn't going to make ''anyone'' happy, so she eventually has no choice but to admit...

"...I've gotta give it to Shinjiro, though." She concludes.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon thinks they wasted their time in high school. "Mmm. I must admit, I do have some particularly fond memories... and you, darling, are in not a few of them, rest assured." As far Yua and Miho, of course. "I knew that when I graduated... mm. How to say... my time would not be my own, so I did my utmost to seizes what chances I could in that time."

If only she had realized the ''extent'' to which her time would become 'not her own'... but it's too late to change what happened now.

But Remi ''can'' vouch for that. "You certainly were," says Remi. "And I believe you served with distinction."

She ''should'' talk with Shinjiro more--Shinjiro still holds some particular fascination for her.

She considers Mio's response. "I suppose you're right, dear." Inwardly, though, she is still concerned.

She's known Myunghon longer, after all. (Sorry, Myunghon. She belives in you! But this ''is'' Shinjiro you're going up against.)

But hanging out together more... well, that would be nice, wouldn't it? But... fraught with peril.

Still, she watches as Shinobu judges... and just nods to herself. "But Myunghoin, darling, just think how far you've come! You didn't know how to make this ish at all when you started, so I believe you can count ''that'' as a win."

She gets up and walks over to the grill. "And I think you've earned your break. I'll take over. Who would like the next one, and what shall I put upon it?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "No, I mean it! You can go to some tourist towns and the deer have been taught to bob their heads every time someone approaches them with a cracker, and they call it 'being polite' rather than simple pavlovian training. Then the deer will mob you en masse. It is patently transparent from top to bottom," So-young huffs in what is, let's face it, rather a deliberately ridiculous way. At least she seems mollified enough that Shinjiro understands her concerns, nodding solemnly afterwards.

The musician hardly establishes totalitarian control of the MP3 player, not least because trying to figure out acoustics in a back alley is generally a futile endeavour as it is. Besides, So-young is also a bit of a hobbyist idol stan, and even with the music playing she keeps flicking through the contents of the player. "Oh, you're very up to date. Didn't this group just start a few months ago? I remember getting an email asking about my rates. I offered to do some work for their debut for free, but they turned to another composer in the end." She lets a snatch of it play, humming pleasantly along. "It seems to have worked very well for them," she admits graciously.

"... Student Council President. I can see it, I suppose," So-young ventures after a moment towards Remi, trying to imagine what Myunghon must have been like that far back. If you have any photographs or yearbooks, I would be delighted to take them off your hands for blackmail purposes, and--"

So-young's ears prick up at the final comment from Myunghon, and she's slowly turning her head to lock onto the situation with an almost cat-like stare. "Hold on, when did you learn how to guilt trip someone?" she comments with naked glee, watching the interaction with her eyebrows soaring higher. "More to the point, when did you learn how to guilt trip Shinobu of all people?"

Given how often So-young refers to herself as a member of the audience, it is only good and proper that she gasps theatrically at the final verdict, a hand going to her forehead as she pretends to almost swoon.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
There's an almost unimpressed sigh with So-young as she starts plying Remi for pictures, and they say, "Nuna, if you're so keen to see what Myorei Yukichi looked like, she wasn't exactly a secret." Of course, it's not all just about the looks, now is it? That dangerous yearbook...

But So-young also asks them when they learnt how to guilt trip anyone. "Now excuse me, just whatever is that supposed to mean?"

Remi's kinder about their time together, though. "Hmm... I suppose we both have experienced that, in our own ways..." Myunghon is also leaving it a little vague. "But that is a point well taken. Assisting the theatre club was a pleasant enough experience."

Myunghon suddenly looks a bit bashful when Shinobu shows interest. This might be a dangerously careless tic when So-young is present. "... well, I do not advertise it often, but it is true. Even you might be surprised, I suppose, Shinobu-ssi... I don't believe you would've liked me much then." And they were reflecting on how meeting Mitsuru was almost like looking in a mirror... they've obtained an unexpected link through Shinjiro.

Mio so fervently believes in a Plan B, but, alas, the only Plan B present was for Remi to keep feeding everyone else after this. They've come up short...!! It's not just about who wins or loses, right...

...

...

Shinobu gives the edge to Shinjiro, which is a polite way to say it was a complete blowout. Myunghon pouts quietly to say, "Ah, that tactic didn't work...?" though there's a teasing note to their voice. "This is a lot more difficult than baking. ... there is something pleasant in simply waiting for your cookie to complete."

But they do get the wonderful prize of Shinjiro agreeing to do this more often, and after learning a few more tricks... they pick up a piece of Shinjiro's okonomiyaki and eats it, ashes and all. "Full of love," they agree, winking...

... no, is that just blinking, when you just have one eye?

"Oh, also, make me one with just beansprouts, please, Remi."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Remi Ryuuja has posed.
<poem>
So-young fishes for blackmail material, and Remi pauses for a moment. ''Does'' she have any yearbooks or photos? If she does... they're at home, a place she hasn't been to in... quite some time.

If they even still kept those.

But she has another answer, and the gives So-young a good-natured smile, instead. "Why, I ''do'' believe it would be inappropriate of me to 'bite the hand that feeds me', as they say. Myunghon ''does'' still sign my paychecks, dear."

She might share a story or two later, though.

"It was indeed wonderful to work alongside you in the Drama club," Remi agrees.

She takes her spot at the grill, and nods to Myunghon as they give their order. "Bean sprouts, coming right up," she says, getting to work.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Myunghon says that even she might be surprised - but they doubt she would've liked them much then... Shinobu considers this, as well as what they say... And then, she nods.

"Then I'll take your word for it. I prefer Myunghon, anyway." She replies.

So-young asks how they learned how to guilt trip ''her'' of all people...

...And Shinobu pointedly says nothing.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>Shinjiro hears it's not about who wins or loses. He partially agrees. Partially, because he's now eighteen and therefore likes to win.

Which he does! But he's gracious in it. "...thanks, Myunghon. If you ever want to learn more cooking, let me know. This knowledge is useful to more than just me."

Then, he moves to *finally* take a damn seat, sheepish as Myunghon tries his food and winks with one eye.

"...thank you, everyone. This has been... hard to accept, but it's real nice. I've never actually had someone throw me a real party until this birthday. ...didn't think I deserved it, honestly."

One last birthday... and it's been a good one, surprisingly.

"Now to enjoy the rest of the evening, right?" Shinjiro says. He's still not fully relaxed... but he's trying. And that's what matters.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> If nothing else, So-young is apparently not trying to be mean about either of her requests, simply overexuberant. "It isn't simply about how--" she hesitates here, finally having the presence of mind to spot the way in which Myunghon delineates those two identities. She's not exactly sure how to best respect that, but at least she seems to understand enough to not draw a direct link between the two, and tries again. "There is simply a lot of history that it would be pleasant to catch up on. I think I'd feel fairly proud," she insists almost thoughtfully.

If anything brings her back to earth, it's the way in which Shinjiro mentions he didn't think he deserved his birthday, and her brow furrows for a moment. She wasn't exactly a latchkey child in the traditional sense, not when she was being passed around between aunts, but there's a familiarity to the feeling. "Yes, well. We do seem to be in the business of overtuning expectations. Even our own," she decides with a distinct confidence.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
There's merely a quiet chuckle as Remi points out Myunghon still pays her bills, though she wouldn't dare hang that over her head like that, now would they?

... even as they lean forward with their finger at their lips as Shinobu says she prefers Myunghon. The flush and smile from that is almost unmistakable. "Hmm. Well, that's a very nice consolation prize for losing the contest."

Shinjiro thanks them all as he sits down and Myunghon brings some water for them, since they've been exerting a bit. "This is... also new to me, actually," Myunghon confesses, since they sure weren't having birthday parties even back in high school. Remi knows how absent their parents were.

And So-young is trying! There's a fond little smile as they seem to pick up on what their sibling's trying to do, and then says, "... it's on the third shelf."

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-12-02: LA CLINIC

2025-12-03T06:42:11Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: LA CLINIC''' *'''Cast:''' Joyous Lovelace, Ryuzaki Kurama *'''Where:''' LA CLINIC, Kagurazaka *'''OOC Date:''' December 02, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 19, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Ryuzaki comes to LA CLINIC for his weekly cleaning ritual of Joyous Lovelace's abode, and finds, perhaps, more rice crispies than he bargained for, and less burger.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Joyous Lovelace has posed. <poem> LA CLINIC is technically not open yet. You can tell..."

*'''Log: LA CLINIC'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Joyous Lovelace]], [[Ryuzaki Kurama]]
*'''Where:''' LA CLINIC, Kagurazaka
*'''OOC Date:''' December 02, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 19, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Ryuzaki comes to LA CLINIC for his weekly cleaning ritual of Joyous Lovelace's abode, and finds, perhaps, more rice crispies than he bargained for, and less burger.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Joyous Lovelace has posed.
<poem>
LA CLINIC is technically not open yet.

You can tell by the sign out on front of the old but sturdy building that says

CLOSED

And, if that isn't clear enough, someone has also written in permanent market beneath:

NO, SERIOUSLY, FUCK OFF

The writing is obscenely sloppy kanji. It's still (barely) legible.

The inside of LA CLINIC is undergoing renovations for its grand opening. Technically. What this amounts to is a bunch of ladders, hammers, and other renovation equipment tossed this way and that, a half-painted wall, and a stack of unpaid billing invoices pilled up on the back room's lounge table, apparently having been assembled to use as an extremely inadvisable ash tray.

The front rooms are... fine. Serviceable, at least. They're where the (medical) magic happen, and there's at least a sense of (cheap) professionalism to them. The door to the back room on the right remains heavily locked. Anyone with a Persona can sense something tremulous behind that door, not unlike the wax-wane of a Safe Room in a Palace.

The other back room, well.

It looks like a disaster hit.

The personal living space of LA CLINIC's owner and operator is the kind of thing that makes you question the meaning of life. There is, of course, the bill-pile ash tray. There is a sofa, a chair, a television that does /not/ look cheap that also looks like it might be cracked in the far right corner and is currently playing old episodes of the reality-romance show AINORI to an indifferent audience. Trash is strewn across the entire place, and it reeks of old junk food, stale beer, weed, and other scents that should never have made a cocktail of each other. There's a pair of shoes hanging from the fan blades of the main living space by their shoe strings, whipping about dangerously with every rotation. It's unclear how or why they're up there. The personal office/bedroom is currently closed and unoccupied...

... because LA CLINIC's owner and operator is currently passed out on the sole, ratty couch of the living area, one arm flopped across her face and the other sleep-scratching her belly, currently dressed in a far-too-large white tank top and a pair of boxers that are emblazoned with pictures of Kirby eating various, improbable things.

She was apparently eating before she passed out, judging by the box of KELLOGG'S GENMAI BROWN RICE FLAKES currently precariously perched on her stomach just below her hand, rising and falling dangerously with her every snoring breath. It's a miracle - and a baffling mystery - how it hasn't toppled over yet.

It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

And so, behold:

"snnnrrrrr that's my fucking gummy eve snrrrr"

Joyous Lovelace, in all her glory.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Your mission today, Ryuzaki Kurama, as it is every week, is to clean the interiors of LA CLINIC.

Cleaning through the front rooms is an effortless enough job -- at this point Ryuzaki is deft enough with a mop and microfibre cloth that they can just swan through and sweep down every surface imaginable and dust and vacuum off anything that isn't, but that's just the warm-up. No, it's beyond that the true challenge lies, much like how one shouldn't go all out before the main event.

(They do organise the bills and invoices into a pile, though it's not up to them to answer it because they're also broke.)

Ryuzaki is always questioning the meaning of life. He's done this before he's even invented Ryuzaki -- something that happened quite a while ago, after one of their more tragic visits to the worst pits of hell on Earth, seemingly out of the blue. It's unclear whether it's a coping mechanism or a trauma response or something else, but now it's become, seemingly, one of their school cover identities... though the insistence in which they wear the name and the clothing and also hide their hair inside Ruza's baker boy casquette to pretend to have short hair doesn't really feel like just an identity.

But it is Ryuzaki cleaning today.

VRRRRRRRMMMMMMM

That's the annoying sound of the vacuum cleaner threatening to devour everything that might be considered filth, as Ryuzaki sweeps through the living space with a certain keen eye and deft hand, having lifted everything off the floor into his second-- no, third thoroughly-packed black bin bag, dutifully and faithfully tied off to minimise the stink from all the substances that've met and formed an unholy union within this back room.

It's true what they say -- life finds a way.

Should it, in this case?

Ryuzaki is in just a white shirt and black skinny denim pants today, though he's slapped on a heavy-duty apron and has surgical gloves very conveniently sourced from nearby as well as a mask for their cleaning. He's stopped by Joy a few times as they snnnrrr, but then it's come time, a little past three quarters of the way to the living space looking like something respectable, that he dares to pick up the box of rice flakes from her hand so they can probably tidy it back up into the pantry...

It's ironic, perhaps. Ruza was a bit of a slob. Not massively so, but she wasn't Laurent, who was meticulous and fastidious -- a bit of a scatterbrain at times, she too would do unfashionable things like stuff cereal straight from the box while lounged on the couch, guffawing all the while at her favourite une Série d'animation. (we don't call it ANIME in French.)

Ruzica is fastidious, cold and clinical in turn... she sucks at being Ruza, quite frankly, despite having the exact appearance as she would have back in 1992.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Joyous Lovelace has posed.
<poem>
There are many reasons Joy Lovelace knew fairly instantly that Ruzica - Ryuzaki - was not really Ruza, early on.

One of them was that she could bully Ruzica into cleaning up her messes for her with minimal effort whereas Ruza just helped add on to her mess like two stellar bodies merging to create something even greater and more horrifying.

It's not the MAIN reason; but it is A reason.

Their relationship has evolved quite a bit since those early days thanks to the immutable and unstoppable charge of time and the events that take place within it, but some things remain evergreen. Like the evergreen way Ryuzaki comes by once a week to clean the never-evergreen span of Joy's living and professional but mostly living areas. Sometimes, Joy manages to sleep right through the entire thing, even the heavy sound of the vacuum cleaner sucking up chunks of things that should never have to be sucked up into a vacuum cleaner. She's just that mighty a sleeper.

Other times, though...

"NO!"

It's sudden, the way Joy jolts up, bright amber eyes wide and voice gasping out alarm. It's not unfamiliar, probably - Joy, as Ryuzaki well knows, has a lot of things to haunt her dreams nowadays, things they've both witnessed - but it's always an open question of ''when'' or ''if'' it might happen.

Today, it happens on a day that Joy passed out with a box of cereal on her stomach, which means,

PAFF

with a shout and a jolt, that box just goes airborne, rice flakes flying every which way across the floors Ryuzaki -just- cleaned. And not just rice flakes. Is that -- sugar? And -- whipped cream?? Did Joy just mix a bunch of whipped cream and sugar into her ''entire box of cereal''?

WHAT WAS EVEN THE POINT OF GETTING BROWN RICE FLAKES?

Regardless, the situation as we know it: cereal and cream, going everywhere. Joy, shouting, "WHO SCREWED WITH MY CEREAL?!" as if someone not her had just exploded her precious unholy abomination masquerading as cereal all over the place. And Ryuzaki--

Ryuzaki--

Joy blinks dumbly, her hair coated with a dollop of whipped cream and rice flakes. Her expression flattens.

"Oh. It's you," she flatlines out, which in Joy speak means, 'Hey!'

"... Nnh... You couldn't vacuum any louder? Maybe ratchet that thing up to 'run and hide the world is ending' alarm levels?"

This means 'how're you, Ryuzaki?'

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
It's quite true, Joy and Ruza were two halves of some kind of devastatingly, uniquely terrible demon core of slobbiness only propped apart by the proverbial screwdriver which is... uh... the more responsible team members, in this prolongedly torturous analogy, before they slam together to inflict a unique and everlasting kind of pain.

Ryuzaki was wondering if he'd get through cleaning unimpeded this time.

''NO!''

Ah. It's the second case, this time -- which isn't something Ryuzaki is not unaccustomed to, but it still somehow is a little surprising each time. That vacuum cleaner is also, somehow, still in functioning order, perhaps because Ryuzaki is similarly fastidious with keeping it in shape and also it dies an unholy death every four months and needs its guts replaced.

La Clinic isn't somewhere cleaning appliances go to thrive -- it's where they go to die.

Cold, golden eyes, slightly wide, stare in sharp contrast against Joy as she sits up, peeking from behind those jet-black bangs. The casquette with the fat chicken pin is still on. He's not unaccustomed to the nightmares...

Joy knows that even today, Ruzica refuses to sleep without the lights, and is similarly plagued with nightmares. She's confided this in only a few people, but in her words: "When I turn off the lights, I see their faces in the dark... first one, then another... then Clerval says... 'hey Ruzica... you doing all right?'"

However, it isn't just the sudden menace of brown rice flakes flying everywhere. No, there was whipped cream and sugar inside the box!! Cream is naturally heavier than cereal, and where the flakes go everywhere, the sudden force of the box going up means--

SPLAT

Yeah, most of the whipped cream and sugar is on Ryuzaki's face now.

"Good afternoon," Ryuzaki quietly monotones, as if they didn't just get a faceful of dairy and sugar. He runs his finger slowly and slurps some of it. Free calories shouldn't be wasted.

"No. This is as loud as it runs," they point matter-of-factly, as if the joke just flew right over their head. (they also don't say JOKE in France.)

"I'm nearly done with the cleaning. ... do you want lunch?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Joyous Lovelace has posed.
<poem>
A huff of breath. A grimace.

Joy lifts a hand, palming her forehead to wipe away a slick of cold sweat from her skin and through her messy mop of hair--

which is just about when she ends up rummaging through the glob of whip cream congealing sweetly around clusters of brown rice flakes, and makes just the most Warhead Sour face an adult woman can make.

"Ugh, what the--" she begins, pulls her hand back, eyes the whipped cream smearing it that she really should have noticed in her hair before, and just blanches. "For fuck's -- I just showered, too! What a goddamn waste."

Yes. That's what she's mad about.

The prospect of having to shower again in the near(...ish...) future.

And so, in a study of contrasts, as Ryuzaki slurps whipped cream so as not to waste it, Joy just kind of --

flings it to the ground with a few errant snap-shakes of her wrist until she's satisfied.

"Tt," is Joy's irritated grunt as she slumps forward in her sofa seat, flopping arms over her bent knees and perching her chin on her forearms. Those bland-yet-intense amber eyes glide towards Ryuzaki, eyeing him incredulously as he informs her that the vacuum cleaner cannot be any louder than this.

Joy knows a lot about Ruzica, just like Ruzica knows a lot about her. Spend enough time together, and it's inevitable, especially when one party is very intentionally poking and prodding at the latter to understand what makes them tick. Joy knows about the nightmares; she helps how she can, in that disastrously Joy way of hers. She knows, too, that Ryuzaki is entirely serious when he makes that observation and probably does not even register the joke for a singular second.

Which absolutely does not stop her from staring for three whole seconds of silence before continuing, "Then it's shit. Find a better one. And maybe while you're at it, you could find some firecrackers to light off right next to my ears. Really work that tinnitus."

She knows Ryuzaki isn't responsible for waking her up, but: Joy is petty and doesn't want to acknowledge that she might have nightmares of her own, so here we are.

With that, Joy just kind of... tilts her body to the side until she can grope at her table. "You didn't mess with the stuff on the table, yeah? I've got everything exactly where I want it so don't touch it," she says, which is not even remotely close to true or accurate or even good sense because look at those bills, they're like 50% ash by volume at this point. Eventually (after knocking off some of said bills) she finds what she's looking for: a mostly-empty carton of cigarettes.

She's slumping forward, bare feet thumping on the ground (the right landing on that box of cereal with a wet squelch-crunch) and fumbling groggily for her zippo as she grunts out,

"You're done now. So let's get something to eat. I'm so fucking famished I'd sell my firstborn for a good burger." Not literally. Probably.

Those amber eyes stay fixed on the table as she asks, after a moment, "Which one are you today?"

It's a question she's ''been'' asking every time Ryuzaki wakes her up, since he took up his new, school-bound identity. When she started, she didn't pick up the cue of the hat, for example. And she was too busy explaining to him why he was "crazier than fucking Alain may that asshole rest in as little peace as humanly possible" to want to voluntarily attend school.

Now? It's just habit.

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki understands that when Joy says 'I just showered, too', the alloted timespan can be anywhere from 1 to 72 hours, if he's being generous. Perhaps even more, if he's being even more charitable. He does, however, dutifully have a facecloth that he silently passes to Joy when she realises she's just got cream and sweets all over her face and hair.

And then kneels to lift the bit of cream Joy's dolloped onto the ground effortlessly, because keeping carpet clean is a matter of vigilance.

...

...

There's a moment where Ryuzaki isn't sure if they should apply the three second rule here. They may be mighty and experienced as a Hunter, but they're not sure if they're immunised enough to eat cream that's been on Joy's floor for even a moment.

"We don't have money to buy a new one..." is Ryuzaki's sotto voce as to why they don't have a better, more silent vacuum. This one's definitely due to be retired, and yet, it must continue on, taking lumps of sugar and other unspeakable globules of Thing into it until its machinery whispers the sweet goodbye in the midst of the night.

This, too, is the worst of humanity.

"I read you could reduce the effects of tinnitus by cupping your ears and drumming the back of your head with your fingers..." Ryuzaki remarks. "But... I do not know if there is medical basis for that."

He's still trying. Some days, he's here, at La Clinic, going through medical flashcards borrowed from Joy even though his one attempt at med school turned out disastrous when the lecturers and residents got really suspicious about how young he was. And even if he did get a license, that same suspicion would always carry across the patients he supposedly was going to help.

Can you help someone disinclined to trust you?

"I tidied the bills," Ryuzaki does admit. He does not, however, move to help Joy with the cigarettes, in part because they're distracted by the squelch of the cereal (tactical cleaning action happens here)--

But then Joy calls his work done. She desires a burger, and Joy's familiar enough with Ryuzaki that she can spot the slight glimmer in their large, golden eyes at the sheer mention of the food item. It's always burgers with this one, for some reason.

But then they realise there's no burger present, just the desire for one.

Now they're desiring burger too.

Their Guts are hungry...

"... I'm Ryuzaki Kurama. Nice to meet you," Ryuzaki answers, putting their hands behind their back and shuffling their feet gently, which is a kind of cute, almost bashful gesture they picked up... somewhere... that seems unique and more lifelike than anything they've done as Ruzica. Perhaps it's the natural bias of Ruzica handling topics of the Hunt and fighting, but she's a lot more cold and calculated than he is -- like he's trying to shunt a measure of humanity and softness in this presence.

As to why Ryuzaki'd like to attend school, despite Joy saying that he'd be crazier than Alain to do that voluntarily?

("Almost everyone I have met says high school is one of the most miserable periods of their life," she said. "Therefore, I must investigate high school as part of my delve into the worst of humanity.")
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Joyous Lovelace has posed.
<poem>
''We don't have money to buy a new one...''

"Just get a loan from someone," is Joy's advice. "You can pay it off whenever you want, or not. What're they gonna do about it? Sit and spin, that's what. Legally, they're responsible for lending you money."

LESSON NUMBER ONE: NEVER TAKE FINANCIAL ADVICE FROM JOYOUS LOVELACE

LESSON NUMBER TWO: NEVER TAKE LEGAL ADVICE FROM JOYOUS LOVELACE

Shaking loose one of the few remaining cigarettes left in her pack (WINSTON Sparkling Menthol), she draws it to her lips, and then finally amber eyes roll upward to peer at Ryuzaki from Joy's head-drooped position as he talks about a method of relieving symptoms of tinnitus. She's silent after, as she finally snags her zippo and flicks it open with an ignition of flame. But by the time she lights up the tip of that tobacco stick...

"Sometimes," she says, and her voice - while groggy - is briefly free from her wealth of seemingly natural acidity. "Depends on the tinnitus. The percussion from your fingers, if you place it right, can relax the suboccipitals," smoke spilling from her lips, stands up and approaches Ryuzaki with a calm-if-shambling step that make or may not bump into the table and knock a few things off it in the process. She reaches up and around his neck --

until rough fingers can tap once, twice at small cluster of muscles and tendons at the base of his skull.

"... those, right there."

With that she pulls away, plucking up her cigarette, exhaling smoke and waving that stick around dismissively as she goes.

"Tension in those muscle groups can lead to ringing in the ears. It's a common cause of tinnitus. A lot more now that all you mush-brain children spend most of your life curled up gawking at your phones like the world's largest shrimp."

Aww. She's acknowledging Ryuzaki Kurama as a shitty youth!

"Anyway, tapping makes the muscle contract and relieves symptoms for a bit. It's like when we test reflexes by hitting a tendon with a reflex hammer. And don't touch my fucking bills. They don't deserve to be tidy."

This, apparently, is the limit of Joy Lovelace's Sensei Mode.

Joy, however, has said the magic word. And just as planned, it makes Ryuzaki instantly forget further cleaning, thus preventing them from hassling her (is it a hassle when they're literally doing free work for her though--??) further with weird concepts like 'tidy bills'. She regards Ryuzaki as he introduces himself, cigarette in hand, free pinky finger scratching the inside of her ear, expression bland. But thoughtful.

It's an interesting thing, the shift in demeanor. Because Ruzica saw it somewhere? Or is it an expression of something they'd like to be? Or...

Joy's lost in thought for a second before she just mutters, "Yeah, yeah, okay. Great. Fancy meeting you, hope we'll get along, whatever. I'm not your teacher. God help me if I had to teach children. What's even the point? You're gonna fuck it all up anyway. You should tell yours to quit while they still can."

And with that, Joy shambles off to her extremely old fridge that she likely just bummed off someone looking to get rid of it, and cracks the thing open, shoving her upper half inside.

"Hey! Where's the ground beef?! How are we gonna burg if there's no fucking beef??"

Joy did not buy ground beef.

Joy does not shop for ingredients.

She just gets mad when she doesn't have them.

She's rifling through irritably for a while, before she suddenly asks:

"How's it been?" And, a second later, elucidates:

"Your little schoolyard muckabout. Anything unusual happen? Or interesting?"

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
"..."

"..."

"... mom told me to not get financial or legal advice from you, sorry," is Ryuzaki's extremely tepid answer, as if they were answering 'what colour is the sky?' 'blue.' They wipe the rest of the cream off their face, listening intently and with some amount of hidden vigour within them as Joy starts dropping medical knowledge, and they grow a little antsy because they don't have a pen and paper to write this all down and save it to another flashcard of theirs.

"Percussive pressure from the fingers... relax suboccupitals..." Ryuzaki is making such an endearing attempt to memorise it.

Joy reaches to tap at exactly where she was explaining. Got it memorised?

"... got it."

His eyes look so overjoyed (something Joy's probably learnt to do over the years), at learning a new medical fact, which is to them as important as learning a new snail fact.

o/~ o/~ o/~ (they're so easy to raise Bond level with...)

It's an important bridge, to them, to Ruzica. Because that was one of the strongest and clearest desires that they expressed to the doctor, at a very bad point in their lives, when they'd lost people to horrendous and unfathomable violence from the air.

("I don't want to turn my back on saving lives anymore," Ruzica begged Joy on that day, many years ago, covered in mud and sweat and fresh blood and gunsmoke, still with that eerily expressionless voice -- but the hurt in her voice was real. "Please... teach me how to be someone who can save lives.")

The bills don't deserve to be tidy. He's been told this before and yet... well, maybe it's just Ryuzaki's own brand of concern. Fortunately, Joy does know how to ply Ryuzaki, and as thus...

It's burger time...

There's almost a blink-and-you'll-miss it lilt to his step as he follows Joy to the fridge, and... and...

No!! There's no beef... you can't even do a none burger with left beef if you don't even have any burg, now can you?

This seems to dishearten him. Bond level gains are at risk. Fortunately, Joy distracts him with a question. "Oh... ... it's all right. I've shared numbers with a few friends... Ryuji Sakamoto enjoys running, so I wanted to ask him about more tips on running... I appear to share a part-time job with that delinquent everyone talks about, Ren Amamiya... and there's a girl who likes the arcade, Hazuki Nakao..."

A pause, as they glance to the side. It doesn't show on their face, but their eyes quiver a bit. "There's a bully, I suppose... Kazusa Motojima. It seems I'm not the only one, though, according to Nakao-san."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Joyous Lovelace has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki's mom said...

Joy Lovelace squints.

"Yeah? Well, you tell your mom she should keep her outrageous ass out of my business and stick to her hobbies, like ruling over the demonic legions of Satan's sulfur-stuffed shithole with an iron fist."

That advice is in no way Joy's business. It's just good business when around Joy. It's a critical difference that Joy--

"You tell her that ''exactly''. Got it? Verbatim."

-- refuses to acknowledge in any way.

Because that's what it means to be an adult!

And yet still, despite her colorful language and her less-than-sunny disposition and her brusque way with Ryuzaki, she still takes the time to teach him exactly what he was musing about, and why it's a thing. And even if she may append it with,

"Or you can just chuck a fistful of valium down their throat and let 'er rip. It's about as useful long-term and three times as fun."

... she's still very likely going to write out what she taught Ryuzaki and discreetly pass it on to him before he leaves today. (possibly with 'DON'T OVERDOSE PEOPLE ON VALIUM' written in the margins). Because...

Before

"Hey. ... Hey. Look at me, Ru," Joy had said, trying her best to put on a brave face, even as she could taste the lingering acidity of vomit in her throat -- and how much she wished it covered all the more awful, atrocious scents in the world.

"I don't... I don't know how much good any of this is at saving lives in the end. I don't. But... everything I know, you'll know.

"I promise."

Now

... she gave her word.

The scowl on Joy's lips just deepens as she finds nothing but old leftovers and milk that may or may not be expired in her fridge, and a whipped cream can that she definitely used the rest of ''literally today'' before ambivalently shoving said empty can right back into the fridge. Retreating from the fridge, she irritably slams the door shut (it rocks, precariously, because the thing is over well over two decades old and its structural integrity is not a guarantee anymore), grumbling something about "stupid cows can't just come here and shred themselves up for me then what fucking good are they" before she stalks off towards some forgotten corner of the living area.

Her interest levels in things like 'track with friends,' and 'part-time jobs with criminals,' and 'the ultimate gamer queen' don't seem to interest her especially ("that second one sounds more interesting than the other two, be friends with them" is about the sum whole of her contribution to that part of the conversation); she's rummaging through a big pile of clothes that are likely hamper that may or may not have been gathered in one place by Ryuzaki, when...

''There's a bully, I suppose...''

Joy, in the middle of hopping a pair of sleet gray sweatpants up her legs, pauses, holding the pants loosely aloft and considering Ryuzaki, and the way their eyes quiver.

"... Yeah? Tell me about that brat a bit."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
'Mom', in this case as Joy would know, is Eveline Deschamps, because they fled Laurent's household in a vain attempt to keep Isabeau pacified and instead started living with Eve instead. It's kind of complicated. At least he hasn't started calling her auntie like he has Vivienne.

"Sulfur... stuffed... ..." A pause, as they think about this for a while, as if also trying to jot this down in the exact same memo space as the percussive suboccupitals, but only have 128 kilobytes of memory. That's pretty dismal these days, Ryuzaki.

Who first taught Ruzica her first swear word?

"Joy, I think you've said that on thirteen different other occasions, and you also told me that benzodiazepenes are addictive and not recommended for long-term usage..." Ryuzaki points out in turn, because for as much of a goldfish he has for a short-term memory, some other things sure last a long time.

...

How good is it all at saving lives? Any of it? Medical knowledge, first aid, Personas... did their Personas save anyone there, on that day? Ruzica hasn't forgotten Joy's face on that day -- she was younger, then, and looked different... but Ruzica still looks as if she could've come from that fresh-torn hellhole and cleaned up. But it isn't just them that bears those scars, as evidenced by Joy's fitful sleep.

And she hasn't forgotten her promise either... and neither has Joy.

And that means a lot. Even with the enormous setbacks Ruzica's experienced since then that's made her much more discouraged to actively pursue it.

While Joy's ranking Ryuzaki's new friends (and the way Ren reassured him over his shoulder was... good...), he does peer quietly towards the fridge and wonders about the miracles that make milk into yoghurt. And also, perhaps, has quietly traced a line as to why there was whipped cream inside the cereal box: because there wasn't much of anything else to eat. He should go grocery-shopping before the day is out.

They can have beef as a treat... if it's half-off.

"I first met her while serving at Fleur de Lis, then I ran into her again when I was jogging... she seemed quite suspicious of me and..." He searches the word he used with Kanae, "... scary."

It's a somewhat new word, perhaps, for someone who's so disconnected to their emotions as Ruzica -- but they seem to be trying, so very slowly, at this whole emotion deal, especially as Ryuzaki. "But she hasn't done anything... direct to me. I think she's the heir of a large electronics company."
+ooc since i know its getting late we can move to a fade anytime
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Joyous Lovelace has posed.
<poem>
Who taught Ruzica her first swear word?

"Of course you can't remember when I tell you to tell anyone who comes looking for me I died of fuckoffitis but you can remember not to cock up benzos! You need to find a place in your long-term for the stuff that keeps my tits out of the fire, alright?"

Truly, it's a mystery.

Of course, foul-mouthed as she is, this is a well-traveled road for them. She doesn't expect Ryuzaki to remember any of the menial, misanthropic nonsense she spouts (though she DOES hope in her heart of hearts her message arrives on Eve's doorstep more or less intact; she has so little, universe, let her have this): it's why she is always ready to accommodate him, in ways that don't actually draw attention to the fact that she is.

Because she has her acerbic pride, and all, you know?

Joy's older now. She's less sure that there's any point to what she's doing - any meaning in prolonging life in a world that seems fit to spit on it.

And yet it still doesn't stop her from looking after Ryuzaki, just like she did - tried to do - so many years ago.

So she listens to Ryuzaki's explanation on Kazusa, hooded amber eyes searching their features as they evoke that single, telling, two-syllable word. 'Scary.' A new word. A new sentiment. ... Something worth keeping an eye on, she thinks; worth studying to see what the effects of all this are, Ryuzaki attending this school. Because she can't help but think about those things, even now.

Any more than she, as she finally finishes hiking that waistband up over her hips, can help but tell Ryuzaki, "Bullies like that love their plausible deniability. They think they're invincible. My experience? You just gotta prove they're not. The second you draw blood, they back off with their tail between their legs, like the pissants they are."

She pauses. Clarifies: "Proverbial blood."

She pauses again. Amends: "Though if that doesn't work you can just pop her one, too. Wait. You're a guy at school right? ... Ah, fuck it. Do what you like. The point is: fuck kids. Don't let them get away with their bullshit."

And she also can't help the way she follows all of this up by shaking her head to remove the rest of the whipped cream (she doesn't; it's a terrible way to do anything), and then makes her way toward the door, patting Ryuzaki on the shoulder and then gesturing for him to follow.

"C'mon, Ryu. We're gonna shoryuken our asses to a burger joint. I know a good one."

...

"You brought money, yeah?"

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-24: I Got So Much Gender To Look Up

2025-11-25T08:09:31Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: I Got So Much Gender To Look Up''' *'''Cast:''' Ryuzaki Kurama, Hazuki Nakao *'''Where:''' Gigolo Arcade, Akihabara *'''OOC Date:''' November 24, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 15, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Ryuzaki gets caught in the rain and retreats into Gigolo Arcade, where he meets fellow classmate Hazuki Nakao.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed. <poem> Today's forecast: Cloudy with a chance to rain. The reality: Destruction rains..."

*'''Log: I Got So Much Gender To Look Up'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Ryuzaki Kurama]], [[Hazuki Nakao]]
*'''Where:''' Gigolo Arcade, Akihabara
*'''OOC Date:''' November 24, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 15, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Ryuzaki gets caught in the rain and retreats into Gigolo Arcade, where he meets fellow classmate Hazuki Nakao.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Today's forecast: Cloudy with a chance to rain.

The reality: Destruction rains from the heavens!!!

It sure looks like it's pouring out there, looking in from the Gigolo Arcade. People are scampering their best to try to get under cover -- the more polite-minded ones are just trying to barely shuffle into the perhaps meter-long awnings of the buildings because they don't actually have business inside, but some kids are hurrying inside with the intent of going to the popular arcade nonetheless.

One of the new entrants is... a young man from Shujin, dressed in a now thoroughly-soaked black denim cropped jacket and white undershirt that's definitely not survived the weather, along with a black baker's casquette that's also thoroughly limpeted down onto their head. They have jet-black hair, and cold, golden eyes peeking through their bangs currently matted down onto their face.

"... ..."

They bristle a little to try to get some of the rain off, and then quietly tucks their hat off -- which causes the rest of their hair, carefully folded and tucked under their hat, to spill on out. It's quite long...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>"Rain, rain, go away...~"

Hazuki Nakao practically lives in this arcade when she visits Akihabara. Today is no different, as she stands at the counter, buying a warm drink, singing to herself audibly enough that a keen hunter could pick it up.

Hazuki's already been here for a while, so she avoided the rain, dressed in her usual newsie hat (similar to Ryuzaki's casquette) and black jacket.

She's eying the entrance as the door slides open, and one of her schoolmates comes in. Ryuzaki Kurama, who's become the talk of the school for being cute (and then weird). People sure do gossip at Shujin...

Hazuki takes her strange heated coffee beverage, and then considers. Instead of cracking it open, she steps over to Ryuzaki, noticing how soaked he is. "Kurama-san, right? You okay? You look pretty drenched..."

Her English accent stands out, an enemy of all French everywhere nonetheless being kind. She's eying his hair... it's pretty, but also soaked.
��</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki Kurama is a pretty darn quiet kid at school, as if he's trying really hard to not stand out... but that aloofness and his good looks do make him the topic of some gossip and admiration from afar, yes. It's Hazuki's song that first stands out to Ryuzaki, but it's not even long before--

Oh. ... they've taken their hat off already.

So his hair is... long? And he was always hiding it behind that hat? The way in which he packs that much volume underneath it pretty impressive. "Ah. Nakao-san..." he softly says, then pauses and self-consciously tucks his hand against his denim jacket a bit closer.

"It was... bad luck."

That's one way to describe being caught in the rain, one supposes.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>Hazuki watches Ryuzaki carefully, as he takes that self-conscious tuck. He doesn't have many friends, does he? Hazuki considers for a long moment. Bad luck...

"Well, it's warmer in here. ...I really like your hair," she admits, even through her usual gloomy countenance. "How do you care for it?"
��</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki does pause, holding onto his hair and starting to run his hands through it to gently squeeze the excess moisture out. "Ah..." he quietly pauses, before he realises he's just caught and can't just stuff his hair back in and pretend it doesn't exist. "Some hair products are too harsh, so I found a nice one that's gentler... then you have to brush it often, and also importantly trim it before your ends split..."

Another pause. "Do you like... the arcade, Nakao-san? Which games do you like?" Quick, quick, change the topic...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>Hazuki considers what Ryuzaki has to say. "Yeah... it sucks, huh... who knew hair care would be so stressful?"

Ryuzaki asks about the arcade and games. She can kinda tell he's changing topic, so she's just going to circle back in a second with a question she had.

"Oh! This is my favorite place... I play Night Parade all the time, but I play some of the other games too."

And then, spontaneously, she decides to hold her drink out. He could use it more than she could. "Here, you must be cold. This should warm you up." It's still sealed, too. "...do you not like your hair?" she asks softly.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki blinks a few times, before quietly accepting the drink -- with this kind of weather, he's not going to be able to go to the konbini nearby and get a towel quite yet without getting even more soaked, so perhaps this is the next best thing after all. "Oh... you're very kind, Nakao-san," he quietly intones, sipping from it gently.

Does he not like his hair?

There's a difficult to perceive stiffening, then his eyes widen a little more as he gazes at Hazuki. "... it's a bit bothersome for a boy to have long hair," is the answer he concludes. "Some schools would require you to cut it..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>"It's no problem at all, really..." Hazuki tells Ryuzaki kindly, if still a little gloomy. But the rumors about Hazuki Nakao are that she's that gloomy and eccentric transfer student, so it makes sense.

About the hair, she doesn't notice the stiffening, but she does notice the eyes widening.

"Does that matter?" she says firmly, tossing it in her head. "Shouldn't the boy decide what they look like? Our appearance is one of the few things we have full control over..."

She moves to reposition, trying to make it so that the entire arcade isn't hearing what they're saying, which is easy enough.

"If you didn't like it, you'd cut it, right? Though I do like your hat, too... it's very cute."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki has heard the rumours about Hazuki... and also observed some of the bullying she's experienced. He's done nothing about it, though -- he's just not really that stand-up kinda guy. Even back when Kamoshida was ruling the roost, the most he did was just quietly avoid and stay out of the way. That's the most he wants to expend effort at school.

"... you'd think so," is Ryuzaki's not particularly defiant answer. He peers at her for a few more seconds, thinking of how he's failed to switch the topic to arcade games by not being insistent enough.

"It's a very precious hat to me," Ryuzaki does quietly say, as he clutches onto the currently-wet casquette. It has a large, fat chicken pin stuck onto the side, both of which look quite old but well-loved. "Do you like casquettes too?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>Hazuki realizes she's probably bothering Ryuzaki at the 'you'd think so', sheepishly rubbing the back of her head. "...sorry, gender presentation and affirming it is just very important to me. I didn't mean to push." oh no she ruined it

So, when he moves on to the hat, she lets him. "...I like the pin, too. Chicken, chicken~." She singsongs to herself again, before nodding firmly. "Yeah! This one I'm wearing was a gift from my father. I got it back when I was living in London. It's cute, isn't it?"
��</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki does start to look a little more thoughtful as Hazuki mentions how important gender presentation and affirming is important to her. "What do you... mean?" he asks, inquisitive. It isn't an accusatory tone or anything -- not that Ryuzaki is particularly capable of that, with how stolid his tone is. Now he's drawn it back towards gender! The weather must've really dampened his mood. Maybe literally.

Hazuki has a little cute song about chickens, though. "Chicken...~" he tries the song himself, but it's clear that pitch and rhythm is perhaps not his strongest suit. "It is cute... you're from London, Nakao-san?"

A pause, and then he says, "I moved in during the winter before the start of the school year from Nice."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>Hazuki is mildy surprised when Ryuzaki asks more information. She makes sure she's a little quieter, before considering... he's a schoolmate. How much can she safely say?

But he seems curious, and he also seems nice...

"Well... there's all sorts of ways to relate to your gender, right? Guys who wear their hair long or dress femininely, girls who wear their hair short or dress masculinely. X-gender. Transgender people of all stripes. Gender is really a very personal thing... like your appearance, it's the one thing you have full say over how you relate to it."

She taps her choker, straightening it absently.

"People shouldn't be scared to be themselves... it's really hard here, though."

And then, Ryuzaki sings along, and she smiles a bit. "I was raised there! My father works for a big company's European branch, so I grew up there from a young age..."

Nice, though... that's nice (pun intended). "Oh, France? I used to spend summers in Paris! Visited Nice once or twice, but don't remember much... beautiful country."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
It's surprising Ryuzaki as well, that he's pursuing this line of questioning. She starts to explain -- about relating to one's gender, and the ways one can affirm or transgress; guys that wear their hair long or dress femininely, girls who wear it short or masculine. X-gender. Transgender.

"Well..." Ryuzaki quietly says, at about the same time Hazuki's adjusting her collar. He notices this, but doesn't understand the significance. "I see... you know a lot about this, Nakao-san..." Ryuzaki looks like he's on the cusp of something, but doesn't quite pursue it further. He does seem to be contemplating all of this like he has sooooooooooo much Moogle searching to do later.

If the chick doesn't break free of the shell of its egg, then Ryuzaki Kurama won't be able to enjoy oyakodon tonight.

Hazuki's sentiment does resonate with Ryuzaki quietly, though. "... I think so."

There's a quiet nod from the boy as she says that her father works at a big company -- and that she's spent time in Nice and France before. "It seems like a popular tourist destination, but I lived out in the suburbs away from the attractions..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>"Ahaha, yeah... I guess it's a personal interest," Hazuki tries to deflect a little, but she's doing a poor job of hiding it.

She does smile as he likes her affirmation, and then listens to him about Nice and France...

"I really liked the food... though I liked that everywhere we visited. Japan's nice too, I guess, but..."

A pang of homesickness, suddenly, before she shakes her head. "Looks like we're both strangers in a strange land, then, huh...?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
"No... I appreciate you telling me," Ryuzaki says quietly. It's kind of hard to hear Ryuzaki sometimes, especially in the bustle of an arcade, given how quietly he speaks, but his voice isn't deep either.

Hazuki tells him of how nice her trip to France was -- the food was great, and the landscapes beautiful. ... was it? It's been so long, in that way that you just kind of forget about the luster of your homeground until someone comes visiting and tells you all about how nice it is. Nice is nice, one supposes. Bring your nieces to Nice. We're hitting this so hard the log will just be called Nice.

"Are you having some trouble adjusting to Japan...?" Ryuzaki asks. A pause. "I can also... speak English if you prefer."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>Hazuki nods. The wonders of gender: imparted. She's totally going to meet her quota.

"A little bit..." she admits, before shaking her head. "I've gotta get used to the language, right?" A lopsided smile. "My grandmother doesn't speak much English, so getting too comfortable in it might be a problem."

She coniders something. "Shujin can be a scary school. I hope you don't let the gossip get to you. It's everywhere."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
"Oh... okay, then," Ryuzaki quietly puts his hands behind his back and kind of scuffs his foot as he leans forward. It's a kinda cute, shy gesture, though those eyes of his still peeks out quite vividly behind his curtain of hair. "I had family to get me used to speaking Japanese before, but... yours is pretty good too." Did Hazuki just get nihongo jouzu'd? Not nice.

But Hazuki expresses that Shujin can be a scary school. "Yes... there's been a few close encounters," they admit. "That Kazusa Motojima..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>Hazuki has no idea what nihongo jouzu means besides what it literally means, so as Ryuzaki compliments her Japanese, she beams. "Thank you! English is pretty much my first language... my parents tried to teach me some Japanse, but it definitely wasn't enough." In other words, they didn't immerse her in it much.

But about Kazusa Motojima, Hazuki exhales. "I know her. She's a bully... she seems really unhappy." Hazuki even said that to her face, once.

"Best thing to do is probably find some friends who understand. I've met a couple recently..." Both of whom have their own gossip cycles.
��</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
"I see... yes, Japanese is quite difficult, and even when you think you understand some phrases, you're missing context..." Ryuzaki observes. "But... you're doing good. I even learnt some new phrases today..." Like gender.

It's telling, perhaps, that Hazuki's phrasing is that 'she's really unhappy'. Not something in the realm that they'd expect other people to talk about bullies, like 'she's a real pain' or something of the sort. "... mm," Ryuzaki quietly nods, still with his hands behind his back. Looks like he's had his share too, has he? "Unhappy, huh..."

As to how to conquer it, Hazuki recommends friendship! He doesn't have many friends, but... he's been building them up slowly. "Do you... want to trade numbers, then?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>"I'm glad!" Hazuki beams a little bit again. Gender was *definitely* one of the first words she learned coming to Japan.

"I mean, why else would she be that way?" she mostly muses aloud. "I don't think people act the way they do for no reason at all..."

But about trading numbers, her eyes light up, and she nods. Friendship get...

"Here, lemme just..." She'll get her phone out to trade numbers! "Are you feeling better being out of the rain, Kurama-san?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki doesn't answer immediately. His appraising gaze almost draws piercing for a moment, as he quietly murmurs, "Perhaps you have a strong heart..."

But will that be enough?

Friendship, though! They trade numbers. Ryuzaki's phone is an old clunker, but it also has a fat chicken keychain on it. It's very round. Once that's done...

Does he feel better about being out of the rain?

Ryuzaki has one of those cute little sneezes in reaction. "... a bit," he admits. "I should... find a towel. But thank you again, Nakao-san."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Hazuki Nakao has posed.
<poem>Ryuzaki's piercing gaze makes Hazuki freeze, though soon they're trading numbers. "Text me any time!" she says.

And then, once Ryuzaki says he needs to find a towel, she smiles and nods. "Take care! Rain sounds like it let up a little bit... stay warm, okay?"

And then, she'll return to gaming! She's not going out there, at least. But she did make a friend!
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-24: From One Joker to Another

2025-11-25T07:06:59Z

Merilan:

*'''Log: ''' From One Joker to Another
*'''Cast:''' [[Tatsuya Suou]], [[Ren Amamiya]]
*'''Where:''' Mementos
*'''OOC Date:''' November 24, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 15, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''While exploring Mementos to blow off some steam, Joker and Morgana run into someone /else/ blowing off some steam -- Tatsuya Suou. The two enter a cautious conversation that reveals some facts for both of them.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
Jun received a direct visit from Tatsuya Sudou.

The words have been echoing in his head over and over. He's becoming more brazen. He'll continue to be more brazen. He'll start to construct events to resemble the 'Other Side' to make him remember, with a goal that's clear to both of them: to reawaken him as the Master Joker. To rip asunder This Side and undo their sacrifices...

Tatsuya's been feeling frustrated at his powerlessness -- his attempts to get closer and end him haven't borne fruit. If only he'd finished him off at Zodiac, when Shiori Miyashiro called him on herself.

"... are you sure you know nothing about Joker?"

The Eligor, who he'd knocked off his demonic horse -- which lays slain beside him (I'm sorry, horse) -- roars, "Nothing! Even if you destroy me, it won't change my answer!"

The Seven-Star Sword is pressed a little harder against his armored neck. It's all cognitive, so both combatants know that the steel won't protect against what's to come next.

Still nothing, from the Demon.

"W-wait! Hold on, I do have something juicy! I think-- those Phantom Thieves, you know them, right? I've heard one of them be called 'Joker'... that's all I know! Warrior's honour!"

Tatsuya furrows his brow further, and then lets out a low, rumbly 'tch' and kicks off off the armored Shadow's form. The Shadow turns to flee, dissolving back into its inky black form once it's torn away a good distance. A second Joker? In the Phantom Thieves? That brings to mind what Sudou was talking about. Those 'wannabes', those 'posers'. The Phantom Thieves... a masked circle...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
Ren Amamiya is not in a good mood.

That's why they're not 'Ren Amamiya' at the moment; they're 'Joker,' plumbing the depths of Mementos in a strange black van with startlingly blue headlights and a tail for a rear bumper. They shouldn't really be here on their own, but sometimes getting into a good fight with Shadows and Demons helps clear their head--and they've got a lot on their mind right now.It isn't just the news that info on how to enter Eiji Kamiya's Palace has spread. It isn't just that Kanae Fuyuki pretended not to know them. It isn't even that Kasumi Yoshizawa decided not to join The Phantoms--that actually barely bothers them at all. No, most of it is to do with what they learned in a certain Palace that overlays Shujin Academy.

But it weighs heavy upon them--as well as their hesitation to do the obvious follow-up.

When a Shadow races past on the perpendicular tracks ahead, shifting from an Eligor to a shapeless black blob, Joker hits the brakes. They and the Monacar stare as it goes by without paying either of them any mind.

"That sure looked like that Shadow was running from something," the Monacar observes slowly from within himself. "Could something dangerous be ahead?"

"Let's check it out," Joker replies, and cautiously pumps the gas. They turn the corner, and the headlights light up...

...a person. At least, they ''look'' like a person. Joker squints behind their mask at a young brunet in red leathers with a black X on the chest. "Another Persona User?" they murmur.

"He must be pretty strong to send that Shadow packing the way he did," Monacar observes again, this time warily. "Be careful."

Joker nods--and sets him in neutral before hopping out the driver's seat to get a better look. If this doesn't need to be a fight, they don't want to provoke this stranger by being in a car at him, but at the same time, they keep one red-gloved hand hooked over the car door while they look Tatsuya over, their other hand slipping into their longcoat pocket. That's quite a sword that guy is carrying. They'd rather not put themself in range for him to use it.

"This is a hell of a place to meet a stranger," they call, projecting their deep voice and affecting a certain theatricality. "Might I ask who you are?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
Tatsuya doesn't flinch as lights flood his viewpoint soon after the Shadow flees.

As the Monacar turns the corner, headlights lit up...

Tatsuya Suou looks ready to fight a magic catbus. What an unusual creature... is it another Shadow? It's not like the ones he's seen at this layer. Before he can pounce and take initiative, however, a figure exits from the driver's seat. He's still got his katana ready, however. Something about this individual... perhaps it's the way he almost cuts a Master Joker-like silhouette with his mask...? No, that's absurd.

There's a certain theatricality to his voice. That's not a Demon or a Shadow, though...

"... who's asking?" is Tatsuya's curt, none-too-graceful reply. He can't be all that much older than Ren, though -- clearly still a youth in his teens, even with his tall height and poise. He's still sizing up the Monacar, as if he doesn't trust that the car won't lurch at him and try to eat him while the masked individual distracts him with chatter. Whoever this is clearly has some experience keeping his wits about him.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
Joker considers Tatsuya when he responds by asking for ''their'' name back, after a fashion. He seems like a cautious fellow. He's not intimidated, but he isn't simply rushing to attack either. He's looking at them and Mona like he doesn't trust them... and you know what? Fair point. They'd be on guard too if they were in his shoes.

"'I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours,' hmm? Very well. I suppose it ''is'' the polite thing to do." They take a slight step away from the Monacar, slipping their other hand in their pocket as a silent way to signal they mean no harm. "In this side of unreality, I go by 'Joker'--no relation to that madman plaguing Sumaru City."

Speak of the Joker and they will appear...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
Joker moves away from the Monacar, and holds their hands out to indicate their non-combative intent. His answer, however, makes Tatsuya's face tighten. "'Joker'..." A deeper frown, as he glances towards the Monacar, then back towards the masked individual.

Something seems to have struck a bit of a nerve within him, though he hasn't doubled his combat stance. Instead, he does quietly rise up to a straightened posture, though the sword is still held by his side.

"So you must be the Phantom Thief from the news. One of them, at least," Tatsuya observes. "... Tatsuya Suou," he does at least remember to at least respond in turn. He could've just not answered, but something in him tells him that if he leads him on, it'll get him a bit closer to digging into the truth about these Phantom Thieves... and whether or not they're bad news -- Tsubasa Seki seems to think so.

"You've been changing hearts," Tatsuya observes matter-of-factly -- and then his tone gets a bit more defensive as he accuses:

"... are you stealing their Ideal Energy to do so?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
It isn't a shocking reaction. That's precisely the reason why Joker always makes sure to explain they've got nothing to do with the Joker Killer. If you can sidestep a potentially violent misunderstanding, of course you should do so. But... it does seem odd that he still seems that on edge even with that caveat explained. ...At least he doesn't seem about to attack. Joker will forgive him his sword, considering they can call up their dagger at any time.

Their eyebrows rise--not that Tatsuya will see, with that mask in place--when 'Joker' is placed with 'the Phantom Thieves.' A decent number of people know that, but not ''that'' many. "One of them, yes," they agree, deciding not to fight him on it. No point in lying when he clearly already knows the truth. "A pleasure, however dubious, to make your acquaintance, Tatsuya Suou."

They've been changing hearts. That's correct, and Joker waits for the follow-up. ...It is utterly unexpected. Even with a mask, their confusion is momentarily palpable before they collect themself. "I don't know what that is," they reply, which is technically not the same as 'no.' If someone saw the amorphous, blobby light that is a Treasure before it materialized, would they call that 'Ideal Energy'? Joker personally sees nothing ideal about how Palace Rulers behave, but they'll wait for an explanation before speculating ''too'' much.

...Of course, assuming Tatsuya gives one. But Joker is choosing to remain cautiously optimistic for the moment.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
The way this individual immediately set themself apart from the Joker Killer isn't something lost on Tatsuya Suou... and it's a minor plus point in his books -- it's far, far too easy to think of someone in line with Sudou, who wants to recreate the Masked Circle once more, re-enact the masquerade. Besides, Sudou himself seems to disapprove... which means that, by context, it isn't his creation.

It doesn't mean that he can trust it. Nyarlathotep works in ways beyond an individual's perceptions. The Phantom Thieves may very well just be one of the many other plans he's hatching, even without them knowing.

Joker confirms that they are, indeed, one of the Phantom Thieves...

...

But they don't know of what 'Ideal Energy' is.

There's a quiet frown as Tatsuya considers that exchange for a moment. They didn't seem like they were lying, but it doesn't necessarily mean that they're not doing it. What to do... should he press? ... even if it amounts to nothing, closing off one avenue might still be worth it.

"It's a force that resides in all human beings, embodying their dreams and hopes... an opposite to the concept of impurity you might have heard of in Shinto beliefs," Tatsuya explains, then narrows his eyes. He doesn't think this person will particularly tip anything even if he explains further, but... let's see where this leads.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
It's true; that very well could be what's going on. The Phantom Thieves, who've never even heard of Nyarlathotep (though Joker will after they read Call of Cthulhu from the school library some months into the future), certainly couldn't say otherwise.

Tatsuya explains what Ideal Energy is. Joker considers this. Dreams and hopes are not that different from desires, but if it's something that all people have, rather than something that arises when their desires become distorted, then it sounds like-- "No. We don't steal that," they reply.

It stands out to them that Tatsuya specified that this Ideal Energy is the opposite of impurity. No--'an' opposite, he said, didn't he? Joker doesn't know what that means, but it's odd enough that they'll remember it. It feels important.

"Why do you ask? What kind of significance does this Ideal Energy have?" Joker wonders. They really haven't heard of it before. If they'd teamed up with the Cardboard dragon, would that be different?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
It's as Tatsuya expected. This Joker will only answer as much as he needs to, and not much more -- perhaps that's the prudent way of being, after all, in his line of business. No doubt he has to elude authorities -- and he knows of at least one Awakened authority, given it's his own brother. Who knows who else is out there, able to chase them down to these spaces?

Something still unsettles Tatsuya about Joker's answer. It's clear that something is still stolen... it's spelled out in those calling cards that the public can't get enough of. This can't just be a coincidence.

...

He'll take a great risk here... but first, he has to be certain it won't spill out.

"Those who have their Ideal Energy drained become shadows of themselves... they give up on their ambitions and desires, receding into the background," Tatsuya points out, but doesn't spell out the suspicion that he harbours with Joker. Unwittingly, however, he's cottoned onto the common word -- 'desires'. Then...

"If I explain more... it'll have to stay between just us." A pause. "And your car, I suppose."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
It ''is'' as Tatsuya expected. For as much as he's traditionally tried to keep others at arm's length, in the far past and especially recently, he has a good analytical mind. That's not a bad thing. It's a relief when people behave in a way you can predict, right?

And it is indeed clear that something is stolen. They do call themselves the Phantom ''Thieves'', and they do indeed say as much in their calling cards. That's something Joker won't bother to lie about, either.

Joker listens to Tatsuya continue his explanation, then rests a hand on their chin. 'They give up on their ambitions and desires, receding into the background'... That ''does'' sound more like what they do, admittedly. Still, it's only a partial match. It could just be a coincidence...

When Tatsuya names his condition, Joker quirks a half-smile and pats the hood of the Monacar. "Don't worry. My car's trustworthy."

''Beep beep,'' goes the Monacar. (That's an affirmative.)
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
... in a way, Joker didn't promise anything. They diverted to talking about the car -- who beeps in a kinda cute way. Sadly, Tatsuya Suou isn't so pliable as to be charmed by a cute magical car. ... if he was still with the old group, it probably would be Maya-nee who would first fall. And then Maya-nee would insist they all pile in while she drives the Monacar. And then they would all die a horrible death like he was convinced they would when they were going down those rapids--

...

Post-traumatic flashbacks about Maya's driving later, Tatsuya.

It is those experiences that have given him his observational skills, though. The Tatsuya before the fateful day when Eikichi's friends all had their Ideal Energy preferred to just not pay attention to people... in a way, all those events forced him to engage in the world -- however harrowing.

Fine. Even if Joker didn't promise anything...

"In the past, I've fought against a circle of masked people that drained people's Ideal Energy, robbing them of their desires and hopes... and they were all led by a certain masked individual," Tatsuya carefully explains. "Who went by the name of 'Joker'."

In the past...? Just how young was this guy when he first awakened? And if that were the case, it wasn't publicised at all, this 'Ideal Energy'-stealing incident... but he explains as if he's reliving difficult memories, brief as it is.

After all, that individual is now...

"... if I ask you 'how' you change their hearts, I doubt I'll get a clear answer from you. You seem the type to play your cards close to your chest," Tatsuya observes and assumes.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
That's the trouble with being cute. Joker didn't mean to sidestep the request; they mean to imply they and their car agree to the terms. If anything, they're hiding that their car is a sapient creature with whom they can discuss the matter if need be, but Tatsuya ''did'' technically say it was okay. Fortunately, Tatsuya's willing to overlook it regardless.

Joker's cocksure smile fades as he continues. It sounds believable enough. They've come to realize of late that there's a lot more to the supernatural world than they actively know about--that some people have been awakened for a ''long'' time. This Tatsuya doesn't seem like he's lying, either--if anything, he's trying to be cagey about the details, rather than misrepresenting them.

"Correct. That's a trade secret," they say of how they change hearts. "However, I can tell you that our first target was that teacher from Shujin Academy, Suguru Kamoshida. We hadn't formed before then. Whoever you fought before, it wasn't us." They raise a hand to their chest. "I'm one of the founding members, so I guarantee it."

Their body language agrees: they're certain they're telling the truth, based on their clear, unflinching stare.

"We're not the only masked Persona Users around, though--and more and more, it seems like 'Joker' isn't that rare a callsign," they continue, slipping their hand back into their pocket. "At least, the way you speak of them, it sounds to me like they aren't the same as the so-called Joker Killer."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
It doesn't help that it's Tatsuya, in a cautious and jumpy mood, who's likely to take the worse outcomes on what people say -- getting outed by Goro Akechi for not remembering him and that he was just riding his context clues all this time still stings hard. Perhaps that's the issue with being analytical -- you start to draw patterns where there might not be any. It was something that was tempered by people like Eikichi and Lisa, who more wear their hearts on their sleeves. He doesn't have the luxury of that balance anymore.

Tatsuya does relent on the observation that this 'Joker' of Tatsuya's isn't the Joker Killer. "... that's correct. But there are people with a vested interest in making history repeat. ... you might even be unwittingly be being used."

Does that mean that Tatsuya has an inkling of who?

But Joker tells him about their first target. It feels like a concession... a minor one, though, perhaps. But that also nags at him...

"... Suguru Kamoshida..." Tatsuya murmurs. He hasn't really heard about it -- he hasn't been doing a thorough, in-depth investigation into the Phantom Thieves. But that doesn't line up with something he heard either. He gestures with his free hand. "Was that really your first target?"

Tatsuya continues on with something he wanted confirmation -- and a test to see how unflappable that unflinching stare is: "I've been told that you changed the heart of someone involved in that City Hall fire, before you became publicly known. That your methods weren't as refined back then, causing a Psychotic Breakdown."

He narrows his eyes, poised to return that stare with his own glare. "... did you cause a breakdown in Tsubasa Seki?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
'You might even be unwittingly being used.'

"......"

''That's'' a comment that strikes home. A certain organization has been controlling Principal Kobayakawa by paying him to accept certain students and faculty... Suguru Kamoshida was one. Ren Amamiya was another. There's a clear connection there to Joker, and it unsettles them. They've been trying to keep quiet about it to not frazzle their friends while they've got to focus on Eiji Kamiya's Palace... but it's certainly been on their mind.

This organization might have connections to the political world. Their father is a politician, however small-time. What's ''their'' connection? What did their father do to get Ren enrolled in such an outwardly prestigious school after getting expelled...? What's swirling around them in a vortex they can't even see, trying to push them in a direction they can't know?

The very idea makes them sick. The Phantom Thieves--the decision to change the hearts of the wicked--was supposed to be their own idea... their and their friends' own way of fighting back against the awful adults who kept trying to use them. Is it really possible they could've been manipulated into it somehow? But who could have known that Ren Amamiya would awaken to a Persona, and how?

Focus. Tatsuya questions them more explicitly. "Hm?" Joker murmurs, eyebrows furrowing behind their mask. He goes on...

It's ironic, really. It was only a few weeks ago that they, Queen, and Fox were speculating about exactly this. So while Joker stares at Tatsuya for a length of time that might seem suspicious...

"No."

...it's a question they've got an answer to.

"But we think we might know who did."

They gesture with one hand into the darkness. "It's only speculation on our part; we don't actually know for certain that a psychotic breakdown can be induced. However, it's theoretically possible. What's more, there's a mysterious Persona User we've encountered a few times now--a vicious, bloodthirsty madman who seems to be working for an unknown organization. He doesn't have a name that we know of; we, and the Shadows we've encountered who've survived him, only know him as 'the one in the black mask.' Shaped... like so." Joker raises their hands to their face and gestures outwards for a long beak, then up and back for curled horns. "It doesn't seem his style--he seems to prefer to fight directly--but if there's anyone who's doing something like that, or knows who's doing that, he's our main suspect."

They slip their hands back into their pockets and shrug. "...But I can understand if you think this an all-too-convenient excuse. All I can give you is my word that I speak the truth."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
Tatsuya can't know about the conspiracy that Ren is only scraping at the surface of, with Principal Kobayakawa and Shujin. While this all leads back to the NWO, he has something of a unique blind spot in it -- one where he's prone to glossing over details or becoming uninterested in it because he ultimately knows that it's all a machination by Nyarlathotep... but in glossing over those details because he feels it'd just be 'on the rails' that that figure is laying out for him, the further he'll get from the truth.

His target is Sudou, after all. He can't think of how many people he has to fell before it's all over... he'll go mad from the realisation...

He has to believe he can still nip this in the bud, before it blossoms.

But Joker doesn't visibly have answer to that comment, and the topic moves onto the subject of Seki and -- Joker's suspicion of who might've done it. An unknown Persona User in a black mask, shaped like a... what would that be, some kind of stylised knight helmet? A bird?

"A black mask... hm." He doesn't want to admit it, but that shape of helmet is first unsettlingly reminding him of the Longinus mecha from the Order of the Reunion. Those units were white, though... and also, bigger than a person.

It's true that he could just suspect Joker of giving an all-too-convenient excuse. Joker can only give their word. Tatsuya's not certain, but...

He doesn't get the impression that Joker is a mastermind in the grand scheme of things. No, he has his theatrics, and certainly is commanding the attention of the media with his seemingly masterful acts of thievery, but their posture and choice of words reminds him more of his own guardedness for his own protection, rather than protecting some kind of master plan...

...and...

... this individual just... isn't the Master Joker, or some twisted individual attempting to be Jun, which was his first and foremost fear.

"I'll keep that in mind," Tatsuya starts, those thoughts well concealed underneath, finally sheathing his sword to his side. "You certainly still have secrets you're keeping, perhaps for good reason, with how many are out there to get you. You've got my eyes on your theatrics and heists..."

As if to say, 'if things change for the worse, then I'll come chasing you'.

"But I've already got my hands full chasing another Joker -- the Joker Killer."

He turns around and starts down the subway tunnel at a slow pace, leaving Joker some time for other parting words should they desire.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
They've both got a lot going on, huh? And both of them are just trying to keep their secrets close--trying to protect the ones they care about, trying to enact their own form of Justice.

Admittedly there are lots of Persona Users out there with black masks--one or two within the Phantom Thieves, even--but between the color and the shape of the Black Mask... if Tatsuya ever encounters him, he ought to know him by sight. Then he'll see for himself what kind of fiend he is... even if he's not a full-on mecha. That would be quite a fight, though.

Ultimately, it seems like Tatsuya is willing to take Joker's word for it. They nod once as he sheathes his sword. "If you're taking care of him... then that's a relief for us."

They don't explain what they mean by that, but it's not hard to come to ''a'' conclusion, at least. They watch Tatsuya go for a moment; then they get back in the Monacar, reverse felicle, and head in another direction.

They've got a lot more to think about now, but it really is a relief knowing there's someone so serious-minded dedicated to stopping the Old Maid's reign of terror.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-24: From One Joker to Another

2025-11-25T07:05:17Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: ''' From One Joker to Another *'''Cast:''' Tatsuya Suou, Ren Amamiya *'''Where:''' Mementos *'''OOC Date:''' November 24, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 15, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''While exploring Mementos to blow off some steam, Joker and Morgana run into someone /else/ blowing off some steam -- Tatsuya Suou. The two enter a cautious conversation that reveals some facts for both of them.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed. <poem> Jun rece..."

*'''Log: ''' From One Joker to Another
*'''Cast:''' [[Tatsuya Suou]], [[Ren Amamiya]]
*'''Where:''' Mementos
*'''OOC Date:''' November 24, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 15, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''While exploring Mementos to blow off some steam, Joker and Morgana run into someone /else/ blowing off some steam -- Tatsuya Suou. The two enter a cautious conversation that reveals some facts for both of them.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
Jun received a direct visit from Tatsuya Sudou.

The words have been echoing in his head over and over. He's becoming more brazen. He'll continue to be more brazen. He'll start to construct events to resemble the 'Other Side' to make him remember, with a goal that's clear to both of them: to reawaken him as the Master Joker. To rip asunder This Side and undo their sacrifices...

Tatsuya's been feeling frustrated at his powerlessness -- his attempts to get closer and end him haven't borne fruit. If only he'd finished him off at Zodiac, when Shiori Miyashiro called him on herself.

"... are you sure you know nothing about Joker?"

The Eligor, who he'd knocked off his demonic horse -- which lays slain beside him (I'm sorry, horse) -- roars, "Nothing! Even if you destroy me, it won't change my answer!"

The Seven-Star Sword is pressed a little harder against his armored neck. It's all cognitive, so both combatants know that the steel won't protect against what's to come next.

Still nothing, from the Demon.

"W-wait! Hold on, I do have something juicy! I think-- those Phantom Thieves, you know them, right? I've heard one of them be called 'Joker'... that's all I know! Warrior's honour!"

Tatsuya furrows his brow further, and then lets out a low, rumbly 'tch' and kicks off off the armored Shadow's form. The Shadow turns to flee, dissolving back into its inky black form once it's torn away a good distance. A second Joker? In the Phantom Thieves? That brings to mind what Sudou was talking about. Those 'wannabes', those 'posers'. The Phantom Thieves... a masked circle...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
Ren Amamiya is not in a good mood.

That's why they're not 'Ren Amamiya' at the moment; they're 'Joker,' plumbing the depths of Mementos in a strange black van with startlingly blue headlights and a tail for a rear bumper. They shouldn't really be here on their own, but sometimes getting into a good fight with Shadows and Demons helps clear their head--and they've got a lot on their mind right now.It isn't just the news that info on how to enter Eiji Kamiya's Palace has spread. It isn't just that Kanae Fuyuki pretended not to know them. It isn't even that Kasumi Yoshizawa decided not to join The Phantoms--that actually barely bothers them at all. No, most of it is to do with what they learned in a certain Palace that overlays Shujin Academy.

But it weighs heavy upon them--as well as their hesitation to do the obvious follow-up.

When a Shadow races past on the perpendicular tracks ahead, shifting from an Eligor to a shapeless black blob, Joker hits the brakes. They and the Monacar stare as it goes by without paying either of them any mind.

"That sure looked like that Shadow was running from something," the Monacar observes slowly from within himself. "Could something dangerous be ahead?"

"Let's check it out," Joker replies, and cautiously pumps the gas. They turn the corner, and the headlights light up...

...a person. At least, they ''look'' like a person. Joker squints behind their mask at a young brunet in red leathers with a black X on the chest. "Another Persona User?" they murmur.

"He must be pretty strong to send that Shadow packing the way he did," Monacar observes again, this time warily. "Be careful."

Joker nods--and sets him in neutral before hopping out the driver's seat to get a better look. If this doesn't need to be a fight, they don't want to provoke this stranger by being in a car at him, but at the same time, they keep one red-gloved hand hooked over the car door while they look Tatsuya over, their other hand slipping into their longcoat pocket. That's quite a sword that guy is carrying. They'd rather not put themself in range for him to use it.

"This is a hell of a place to meet a stranger," they call, projecting their deep voice and affecting a certain theatricality. "Might I ask who you are?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
Tatsuya doesn't flinch as lights flood his viewpoint soon after the Shadow flees.

As the Monacar turns the corner, headlights lit up...

Tatsuya Suou looks ready to fight a magic catbus. What an unusual creature... is it another Shadow? It's not like the ones he's seen at this layer. Before he can pounce and take initiative, however, a figure exits from the driver's seat. He's still got his katana ready, however. Something about this individual... perhaps it's the way he almost cuts a Master Joker-like silhouette with his mask...? No, that's absurd.

There's a certain theatricality to his voice. That's not a Demon or a Shadow, though...

"... who's asking?" is Tatsuya's curt, none-too-graceful reply. He can't be all that much older than Ren, though -- clearly still a youth in his teens, even with his tall height and poise. He's still sizing up the Monacar, as if he doesn't trust that the car won't lurch at him and try to eat him while the masked individual distracts him with chatter. Whoever this is clearly has some experience keeping his wits about him.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
Joker considers Tatsuya when he responds by asking for ''their'' name back, after a fashion. He seems like a cautious fellow. He's not intimidated, but he isn't simply rushing to attack either. He's looking at them and Mona like he doesn't trust them... and you know what? Fair point. They'd be on guard too if they were in his shoes.

"'I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours,' hmm? Very well. I suppose it ''is'' the polite thing to do." They take a slight step away from the Monacar, slipping their other hand in their pocket as a silent way to signal they mean no harm. "In this side of unreality, I go by 'Joker'--no relation to that madman plaguing Sumaru City."

Speak of the Joker and they will appear...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
Joker moves away from the Monacar, and holds their hands out to indicate their non-combative intent. His answer, however, makes Tatsuya's face tighten. "'Joker'..." A deeper frown, as he glances towards the Monacar, then back towards the masked individual.

Something seems to have struck a bit of a nerve within him, though he hasn't doubled his combat stance. Instead, he does quietly rise up to a straightened posture, though the sword is still held by his side.

"So you must be the Phantom Thief from the news. One of them, at least," Tatsuya observes. "... Tatsuya Suou," he does at least remember to at least respond in turn. He could've just not answered, but something in him tells him that if he leads him on, it'll get him a bit closer to digging into the truth about these Phantom Thieves... and whether or not they're bad news -- Tsubasa Seki seems to think so.

"You've been changing hearts," Tatsuya observes matter-of-factly -- and then his tone gets a bit more defensive as he accuses:

"... are you stealing their Ideal Energy to do so?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
It isn't a shocking reaction. That's precisely the reason why Joker always makes sure to explain they've got nothing to do with the Joker Killer. If you can sidestep a potentially violent misunderstanding, of course you should do so. But... it does seem odd that he still seems that on edge even with that caveat explained. ...At least he doesn't seem about to attack. Joker will forgive him his sword, considering they can call up their dagger at any time.

Their eyebrows rise--not that Tatsuya will see, with that mask in place--when 'Joker' is placed with 'the Phantom Thieves.' A decent number of people know that, but not ''that'' many. "One of them, yes," they agree, deciding not to fight him on it. No point in lying when he clearly already knows the truth. "A pleasure, however dubious, to make your acquaintance, Tatsuya Suou."

They've been changing hearts. That's correct, and Joker waits for the follow-up. ...It is utterly unexpected. Even with a mask, their confusion is momentarily palpable before they collect themself. "I don't know what that is," they reply, which is technically not the same as 'no.' If someone saw the amorphous, blobby light that is a Treasure before it materialized, would they call that 'Ideal Energy'? Joker personally sees nothing ideal about how Palace Rulers behave, but they'll wait for an explanation before speculating ''too'' much.

...Of course, assuming Tatsuya gives one. But Joker is choosing to remain cautiously optimistic for the moment.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
The way this individual immediately set themself apart from the Joker Killer isn't something lost on Tatsuya Suou... and it's a minor plus point in his books -- it's far, far too easy to think of someone in line with Sudou, who wants to recreate the Masked Circle once more, re-enact the masquerade. Besides, Sudou himself seems to disapprove... which means that, by context, it isn't his creation.

It doesn't mean that he can trust it. Nyarlathotep works in ways beyond an individual's perceptions. The Phantom Thieves may very well just be one of the many other plans he's hatching, even without them knowing.

Joker confirms that they are, indeed, one of the Phantom Thieves...

...

But they doesn't know of what 'Ideal Energy' is.

There's a quiet frown as Tatsuya considers that exchange for a moment. They didn't seem like they were lying, but it doesn't necessarily mean that they're not doing it. What to do... should he press? ... even if it amounts to nothing, closing off one avenue might still be worth it.

"It's a force that resides in all human beings, embodying their dreams and hopes... an opposite to the concept of impurity you might have heard of in Shinto beliefs," Tatsuya explains, then narrows his eyes. He doesn't think this person will particularly tip anything even if he explains further, but... let's see where this leads.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
It's true; that very well could be what's going on. The Phantom Thieves, who've never even heard of Nyarlathotep (though Joker will after they read Call of Cthulhu from the school library some months into the future), certainly couldn't say otherwise.

Tatsuya explains what Ideal Energy is. Joker considers this. Dreams and hopes are not that different from desires, but if it's something that all people have, rather than something that arises when their desires become distorted, then it sounds like-- "No. We don't steal that," they reply.

It stands out to them that Tatsuya specified that this Ideal Energy is the opposite of impurity. No--'an' opposite, he said, didn't he? Joker doesn't know what that means, but it's odd enough that they'll remember it. It feels important.

"Why do you ask? What kind of significance does this Ideal Energy have?" Joker wonders. They really haven't heard of it before. If they'd teamed up with the Cardboard dragon, would that be different?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
It's as Tatsuya expected. This Joker will only answer as much as he needs to, and not much more -- perhaps that's the prudent way of being, after all, in his line of business. No doubt he has to elude authorities -- and he knows of at least one Awakened authority, given it's his own brother. Who knows who else is out there, able to chase them down to these spaces?

Something still unsettles Tatsuya about Joker's answer. It's clear that something is still stolen... it's spelled out in those calling cards that the public can't get enough of. This can't just be a coincidence.

...

He'll take a great risk here... but first, he has to be certain it won't spill out.

"Those who have their Ideal Energy drained become shadows of themselves... they give up on their ambitions and desires, receding into the background," Tatsuya points out, but doesn't spell out the suspicion that he harbours with Joker. Unwittingly, however, he's cottoned onto the common word -- 'desires'. Then...

"If I explain more... it'll have to stay between just us." A pause. "And your car, I suppose."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
It ''is'' as Tatsuya expected. For as much as he's traditionally tried to keep others at arm's length, in the far past and especially recently, he has a good analytical mind. That's not a bad thing. It's a relief when people behave in a way you can predict, right?

And it is indeed clear that something is stolen. They do call themselves the Phantom ''Thieves'', and they do indeed say as much in their calling cards. That's something Joker won't bother to lie about, either.

Joker listens to Tatsuya continue his explanation, then rests a hand on their chin. 'They give up on their ambitions and desires, receding into the background'... That ''does'' sound more like what they do, admittedly. Still, it's only a partial match. It could just be a coincidence...

When Tatsuya names his condition, Joker quirks a half-smile and pats the hood of the Monacar. "Don't worry. My car's trustworthy."

''Beep beep,'' goes the Monacar. (That's an affirmative.)
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
... in a way, Joker didn't promise anything. They diverted to talking about the car -- who beeps in a kinda cute way. Sadly, Tatsuya Suou isn't so pliable as to be charmed by a cute magical car. ... if he was still with the old group, it probably would be Maya-nee who would first fall. And then Maya-nee would insist they all pile in while she drives the Monacar. And then they would all die a horrible death like he was convinced they would when they were going down those rapids--

...

Post-traumatic flashbacks about Maya's driving later, Tatsuya.

It is those experiences that have given him his observational skills, though. The Tatsuya before the fateful day when Eikichi's friends all had their Ideal Energy preferred to just not pay attention to people... in a way, all those events forced him to engage in the world -- however harrowing.

Fine. Even if Joker didn't promise anything...

"In the past, I've fought against a circle of masked people that drained people's Ideal Energy, robbing them of their desires and hopes... and they were all led by a certain masked individual," Tatsuya carefully explains. "Who went by the name of 'Joker'."

In the past...? Just how young was this guy when he first awakened? And if that were the case, it wasn't publicised at all, this 'Ideal Energy'-stealing incident... but he explains as if he's reliving difficult memories, brief as it is.

After all, that individual is now...

"... if I ask you 'how' you change their hearts, I doubt I'll get a clear answer from you. You seem the type to play your cards close to your chest," Tatsuya observes and assumes.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
That's the trouble with being cute. Joker didn't mean to sidestep the request; they mean to imply they and their car agree to the terms. If anything, they're hiding that their car is a sapient creature with whom they can discuss the matter if need be, but Tatsuya ''did'' technically say it was okay. Fortunately, Tatsuya's willing to overlook it regardless.

Joker's cocksure smile fades as he continues. It sounds believable enough. They've come to realize of late that there's a lot more to the supernatural world than they actively know about--that some people have been awakened for a ''long'' time. This Tatsuya doesn't seem like he's lying, either--if anything, he's trying to be cagey about the details, rather than misrepresenting them.

"Correct. That's a trade secret," they say of how they change hearts. "However, I can tell you that our first target was that teacher from Shujin Academy, Suguru Kamoshida. We hadn't formed before then. Whoever you fought before, it wasn't us." They raise a hand to their chest. "I'm one of the founding members, so I guarantee it."

Their body language agrees: they're certain they're telling the truth, based on their clear, unflinching stare.

"We're not the only masked Persona Users around, though--and more and more, it seems like 'Joker' isn't that rare a callsign," they continue, slipping their hand back into their pocket. "At least, the way you speak of them, it sounds to me like they aren't the same as the so-called Joker Killer."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
It doesn't help that it's Tatsuya, in a cautious and jumpy mood, who's likely to take the worse outcomes on what people say -- getting outed by Goro Akechi for not remembering him and that he was just riding his context clues all this time still stings hard. Perhaps that's the issue with being analytical -- you start to draw patterns where there might not be any. It was something that was tempered by people like Eikichi and Lisa, who more wear their hearts on their sleeves. He doesn't have the luxury of that balance anymore.

Tatsuya does relent on the observation that this 'Joker' of Tatsuya's isn't the Joker Killer. "... that's correct. But there are people with a vested interest in making history repeat. ... you might even be unwittingly be being used."

Does that mean that Tatsuya has an inkling of who?

But Joker tells him about their first target. It feels like a concession... a minor one, though, perhaps. But that also nags at him...

"... Suguru Kamoshida..." Tatsuya murmurs. He hasn't really heard about it -- he hasn't been doing a thorough, in-depth investigation into the Phantom Thieves. But that doesn't line up with something he heard either. He gestures with his free hand. "Was that really your first target?"

Tatsuya continues on with something he wanted confirmation -- and a test to see how unflappable that unflinching stare is: "I've been told that you changed the heart of someone involved in that City Hall fire, before you became publicly known. That your methods weren't as refined back then, causing a Psychotic Breakdown."

He narrows his eyes, poised to return that stare with his own glare. "... did you cause a breakdown in Tsubasa Seki?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
'You might even be unwittingly being used.'

"......"

''That's'' a comment that strikes home. A certain organization has been controlling Principal Kobayakawa by paying him to accept certain students and faculty... Suguru Kamoshida was one. Ren Amamiya was another. There's a clear connection there to Joker, and it unsettles them. They've been trying to keep quiet about it to not frazzle their friends while they've got to focus on Eiji Kamiya's Palace... but it's certainly been on their mind.

This organization might have connections to the political world. Their father is a politician, however small-time. What's ''their'' connection? What did their father do to get Ren enrolled in such an outwardly prestigious school after getting expelled...? What's swirling around them in a vortex they can't even see, trying to push them in a direction they can't know?

The very idea makes them sick. The Phantom Thieves--the decision to change the hearts of the wicked--was supposed to be their own idea... their and their friends' own way of fighting back against the awful adults who kept trying to use them. Is it really possible they could've been manipulated into it somehow? But who could have known that Ren Amamiya would awaken to a Persona, and how?

Focus. Tatsuya questions them more explicitly. "Hm?" Joker murmurs, eyebrows furrowing behind their mask. He goes on...

It's ironic, really. It was only a few weeks ago that they, Queen, and Fox were speculating about exactly this. So while Joker stares at Tatsuya for a length of time that might seem suspicious...

"No."

...it's a question they've got an answer to.

"But we think we might know who did."

They gesture with one hand into the darkness. "It's only speculation on our part; we don't actually know for certain that a psychotic breakdown can be induced. However, it's theoretically possible. What's more, there's a mysterious Persona User we've encountered a few times now--a vicious, bloodthirsty madman who seems to be working for an unknown organization. He doesn't have a name that we know of; we, and the Shadows we've encountered who've survived him, only know him as 'the one in the black mask.' Shaped... like so." Joker raises their hands to their face and gestures outwards for a long beak, then up and back for curled horns. "It doesn't seem his style--he seems to prefer to fight directly--but if there's anyone who's doing something like that, or knows who's doing that, he's our main suspect."

They slip their hands back into their pockets and shrug. "...But I can understand if you think this an all-too-convenient excuse. All I can give you is my word that I speak the truth."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
Tatsuya can't know about the conspiracy that Ren is only scraping at the surface of, with Principal Kobayakawa and Shujin. While this all leads back to the NWO, he has something of a unique blind spot in it -- one where he's prone to glossing over details or becoming uninterested in it because he ultimately knows that it's all a machination by Nyarlathotep... but in glossing over those details because he feels it'd just be 'on the rails' that that figure is laying out for him, the further he'll get from the truth.

His target is Sudou, after all. He can't think of how many people he has to fell before it's all over... he'll go mad from the realisation...

He has to believe he can still nip this in the bud, before it blossoms.

But Joker doesn't visibly have answer to that comment, and the topic moves onto the subject of Seki and -- Joker's suspicion of who might've done it. An unknown Persona User in a black mask, shaped like a... what would that be, some kind of stylised knight helmet? A bird?

"A black mask... hm." He doesn't want to admit it, but that shape of helmet is first unsettlingly reminding him of the Longinus mecha from the Order of the Reunion. Those units were white, though... and also, bigger than a person.

It's true that he could just suspect Joker of giving an all-too-convenient excuse. Joker can only give their word. Tatsuya's not certain, but...

He doesn't get the impression that Joker is a mastermind in the grand scheme of things. No, he has his theatrics, and certainly is commanding the attention of the media with his seemingly masterful acts of thievery, but their posture and choice of words reminds him more of his own guardedness for his own protection, rather than protecting some kind of master plan...

...and...

... this individual just... isn't the Master Joker, or some twisted individual attempting to be Jun, which was his first and foremost fear.

"I'll keep that in mind," Tatsuya starts, those thoughts well concealed underneath, finally sheathing his sword to his side. "You certainly still have secrets you're keeping, perhaps for good reason, with how many are out there to get you. You've got my eyes on your theatrics and heists..."

As if to say, 'if things change for the worse, then I'll come chasing you'.

"But I've already got my hands full chasing another Joker -- the Joker Killer."

He turns around and starts down the subway tunnel at a slow pace, leaving Joker some time for other parting words should they desire.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
<poem>
They've both got a lot going on, huh? And both of them are just trying to keep their secrets close--trying to protect the ones they care about, trying to enact their own form of Justice.

Admittedly there are lots of Persona Users out there with black masks--one or two within the Phantom Thieves, even--but between the color and the shape of the Black Mask... if Tatsuya ever encounters him, he ought to know him by sight. Then he'll see for himself what kind of fiend he is... even if he's not a full-on mecha. That would be quite a fight, though.

Ultimately, it seems like Tatsuya is willing to take Joker's word for it. They nod once as he sheathes his sword. "If you're taking care of him... then that's a relief for us."

They don't explain what they mean by that, but it's not hard to come to ''a'' conclusion, at least. They watch Tatsuya go for a moment; then they get back in the Monacar, reverse felicle, and head in another direction.

They've got a lot more to think about now, but it really is a relief knowing there's someone so serious-minded dedicated to stopping the Old Maid's reign of terror.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-23: Lean Against Me

2025-11-24T06:06:14Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: Lean Against Me''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Shinobu Shimizu *'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' November 23, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 11, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Myunghon calls Shinobu for company, their nerves rattled. The two talk about Sudou's visit to the Cardboard Dragon, Myunghon's criminal connections, and also themselves.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> It's been an extremely difficult..."

*'''Log: Lean Against Me'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Shinobu Shimizu]]
*'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' November 23, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 11, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Myunghon calls Shinobu for company, their nerves rattled. The two talk about Sudou's visit to the Cardboard Dragon, Myunghon's criminal connections, and also themselves.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It's been an extremely difficult evening at the Cardboard Dragon -- a blonde man visited the store that left Myunghon Yeo feeling extremely unsafe in their own store, Taka Suho, whose identity they were fairly confident on... and Umie Akabane visiting shortly after only confirmed it. Umie told her that they could pull through, that they need the leader of the Cardboard Dragon right now... and they promptly masked hard into being Merry.

This doesn't last forever, however, and after Myunghon's left to their own devices again, she tremblingly goes for their phone to call Shinobu. Assuming she picks up:

"S-Shinobu-ssi? I was wondering if you could... come over... I forget if you have work tonight or not. ... I'm-- not doing okay. I'm really scared right now... someone dangerous came around earlier..."

They're trying to keep it as well together as they can to not unduly alarm Shinobu, but they're close to their wit's end.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Myunghon calls, and it isn't long before Shinobu picks up. That trembling tone to their voice... There's only one answer.

"Someone dangerous...? Yeah. I'll be right there." Shinobu assures. "Want me to pick anything up on the way?"

She leaves whether or not she had work tonight unsaid. Truthfully, she did... but when they're that afraid, Shinobu isn't going to let that stop her.

And sure enough, it isn't long - allowing for travel time - before there's a knock on the door to the Cardboard Dragon.

"Hey, it's Shinobu. I'm coming in, alright?" She announces herself, so not to startle them - and so long as the door isn't locked, she lets herself in.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon was somewhat certain Shinobu had work, so it does hurt them to know that they're making her drop plans. They didn't really need anything, fortunately, reassuring her that they weren't physically hurt. There's damage on other fronts, though. The door's uncharacteristically locked, and it takes Myunghon a bit to go for the lock and open the door for her.

They're still wearing the chocolate blouse with the ribbon tie, with their white coat and light-coloured A-line skirt and leggings. "T-thank you for coming... was there any trouble on the way here?" they quietly ask, like they're still not certain if someone is listening in or not.

The purveyor pulls back and leads her towards the couch, where Myunghon takes a seat. "I'm sorry to bother you tonight. I know you had plans... um-- there was this blonde man who turned up around noon. He said his name was Taka Suho, but... I knew right away he was lying. On the surface, you could say he was polite, yet... I--I knew he was dangerous. Everything about him screamed that. There was even a bloody bill in his wallet."

A quiet frown, as they whisper: "I think... I think that was the Joker Killer, Shinobu-ssi. The one who went after your sister."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>The door is locked. Shinobu notices that immediately, when she goes to try and open it. That in and of itself says a lot.

Myunghon opens the door, and Shinobu offers them a small smile and a shake of her head.

"Nah. Hardly any traffic this late, so it was easy to get around." She assures, following them over to the couch and taking her seat next to them.

They apologize for bothering her, knowing she had plans - and Shinobu shakes her head again.

"Hey. You don't gotta worry about that. I don't mind." She says, and listens. Taka Suho... A fake name, and polite on the surface - but he screamed danger. A bloodstained bill... and, the Joker Killer. Shinobu curses under her breath. If they think that's the case, then she doesn't doubt them.

"Shit, are you alright? Did he hurt you?" She asks, looking them over real quick. "The hell... Why'd he show up here? Did he say anything about that?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"N-no... he purchased a game and a book, after sharing quite a lot about his 'family', and left, but..." Myunghon frowns, rather uncomfortably. "I think he must've been looking for Akabane-san. He asked after her a few times. But I could sense the threat behind some of the things he said to me too," they admit, still shaking a little as they reach for Shinobu's hand to gently hold onto it, needing some touch at present.

They're pretty pale at present -- moreso than usual, and the bags under their eye is heavier than normal. "His Resonance was cloaked... it was stifling, like there was wool all around me," they share. "And when I checked the cameras after..."

Myunghon pulls the phone out and shares the picture -- Myunghon is speaking to someone over the counter, but his face is... obscured by a long stretchy shadow, hands seemingly covering his face. It's like it's taunting the both of them.

"I told Akabane-san... she-- well, she told me I could..." A pause. "No, Merry could deal with this."

They pick at their hair gently, despondently. "She's right, isn't she?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>He... purchased a game and a book, talked about his 'family', and left? Shinobu frowns, and thinks about that for a moment. What family could he have been talking about? But... he was looking for Umie, but said threatening things to them, too. Shinobu grimaces.

"Shit." She curses again - because what else ''can'' you say to that, really. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

They reach for her hand and she takes theirs, giving it a gentle squeeze. She can ''see'' how difficult this is for them.

"Cloaked?" Shinobu repeats. It's not a sensation she's familiar with - but it sounds uncomfortable. And the cameras... She grimaces again. "...That's creepy as hell."

Umie said they - no, Merry could deal with this.

...It's not a distinction Shinobu might have made if it hadn't been put that way.

"I mean... maybe," Shinobu admits with a shrug. "But that sounds like, just... putting it off for later. It's not gonna make the feelings go away."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon has the slightest bit of an inkling, given how one of them loves explosive stuff... but that's just a hunch they don't really want to share. But they have seen Sudou and Jin Shirato working together at Kaneshiro's Palace. Were they that close, even in just a working relationship?

The squeeze from Shinobu's hand does reassure them, though, as they just about wilt into her side for a moment. Their breathing's still rather erratic and uncontrolled, and it takes them a bit of time -- with some help from Shinobu's presence -- to get them to a state where they can calm themself again.

"Merry's the one who can handle it all... that's what they're there for..." Myunghon murmurs.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Myunghon practically wilts into her side and Shinobu shifts to support them, letting them lean against her for as long as they need. Her thumb gently strokes across their hand as a reminder of her presence.

Merry's the one who can handle it all, huh... Shinobu considers that for a moment.

"...Then where does that leave you?" Shinobu asks. "They can't do everything. Some things... you've gotta sort through yourself."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
There's a jagged spike that Myunghon feels inside of themself, as Shinobu asks where that leaves them.

The purveyor of the Cardboard Dragon chews on their lip quietly, and then they murmur, "I've never been a strong person. Even until recently, I was always someone who didn't really have the courage or confidence to really push back... that was what my mother told me. Someone she could act on without consequence... that was why she tried to..."

Those last words are clearly haunting Myunghon. And in a roundabout way, Shinobu did hear it from So-young or Shinjiro -- that their mother tried to have them killed.

"I'm sorry. There's so much falsehood inside of me... the only thing I can do at times, I feel, is pretend to be human," they murmur more sorrowfully, their mood and demeanor reaching further lows.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Myunghon admits they've never been a strong person. They didn't have the courage or confidence. Their mother...

...Shinobu grimaces.

"...That's on her. Just 'cause she did a shit job as a parent... She should've been supporting you. Not using you. It's not a kid's fault when their parent's trash." She replies with a shake of her head.

She remembers all too well what she was told about what happened. That she'd go ''that'' far... It's unforgivable.

And... they apologize. Falsehood... Shinobu's expression shifts for a moment, unsure.

"...Hey. You're plenty human, alright?" She says, with another squeeze of the hand. "You can feel my hand there, right? You're right here. You're human."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon lets out something of a light, shrill whimper, as Shinobu insists that it's her mother's fault. She'd have feelings about that, given what little they know about how harsh her own parents are. Myunghon quietly swallows, and then does admit, not knowing Shinobu does know:

"... when-- she invited So-young and I to formal dinner, she had me stay and double back... and she decided that she didn't need my services anymore. I fled to... I fled to Mementos to escape them-- her..." They're just now realising that they haven't filled her in on the context. "I knew I was disappointing her. But I didn't know how far she'd..."

Shinobu insists that they're human. They can feel her hand... it's warm and -- reassuring, keeping them grounded, anchored to the world.

"I always thought of myself as... missing something. The ways people behave are often so... mystifying to me, like I was missing some kind of code. I always felt I needed to pretend, to put a mask on to try to emulate them."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>That whimper... Shinobu offers them a sympathetic look. They admit, then, something she already knows. She listens, though, as they explain it from their perspective.

...It's no easier to hear the second time. Shinobu shakes her head in disgust.

"...I'd heard." Shinobu admits. "It isn't right. Her, and other parents that just want to use their kids for their own ends... She don't have the right to get rid of you just because you didn't turn out exactly the way she wanted."

She thinks to her own parents, and what she's heard about Tsubasa's. There's an unfortunate amount of that out there, isn't there...?

She listens as Myunghon continues, her expression softening.

"...Nah. I mean... Just look at everyone who gathers around here." She says, gesturing with her head toward the rest of the Cardboard Dragon. "We're all kind of a mixed bunch, but I wouldn't say any of us is missin' anything... Same goes for you. We've all got our own way of looking at the world. Wouldn't be the same without it."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon looks really, really surprised when Shinobu admits she'd already heard. "E-eh? Why-- how..." Then their mind starts to catch up. That's right. They'd slipped and told Shinjiro and Umie about all this. They must've been talking out of concern... they swallow a little bit harder, and then exhales quietly. "It's true, though. ...and it may be dangerous to say, but it's because of our... criminal connection."

Not that Myunghon thinks that it's surprising that they have criminal connections -- they've always been shady, even if they don't spell it outright. But this is the first time they've spoken of it directly with Shinobu, something sensitive they're entrusting with them.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell this to you before. If that isn't something you can accept, then... then I'll understand."

Shinobu's comfort does console them quite a lot, however. They're a mixed bunch here -- but she wouldn't say any of them are lacking... they just have their own way of looking at the world. ... it's true that they'd never look down on anyone for having their own perspective -- they're respecting how Shinjiro feels about the Thieves, even, as just an example.

"I didn't... when I wanted to be emotionally close, I didn't mean to just-- I feel like I'm just... venting all my troubles on..." Myunghon starts to recede again, as they bite their lip in anxiety.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Shinobu offers an apologetic look, but they seem to figure it out, at least. Still, a criminal connection... So-young ''did'' mention that she was possibly a crime boss - which means that 'possibly' has gone to a 'definitely'.

"Nah. It's alright. I can understand why you'd, uh... be hesitant to go tellin' that to everyone." Shinobu assures with a shake of her head. "I'm glad you were able to tell me ''now'', though. It's a lot to take in, but... it don't scare me off or anything."

Myunghon starts to recede again, feeling like they're just venting all their troubles on her... Shinobu shakes her head.

"Hey. You can't keep this stuff all bottled up. It's no good for you. You need ''some'' kind of outlet... especially when you've been through a lot today already. I don't mind it. Really."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It's incredible, really -- Shinobu seems so much the picture of poise and patience, Myunghon thinks, even though they've seen her get angry, truly angry. ... some part of them is still taken aback at just how far that anger can go, for good reason, such as when her sister was threatened. And... that nagging, stubborn feeling of deja vu, like they were drowning--

Myunghon suddenly coughs again, for a moment, perplexed for a moment. "I'll... come clean, then. Mother is in charge of a criminal syndicate known as the Baengnyong -- the White Dragon. This store was supposed to be a front for it..." Hence the Cardboard Dragon? "A year ago, she placed me in charge of leading the Baengnyong here in Hirasaka... ... I'd made changes to some of the acts that I found distasteful, and perhaps that made me unpopular amongst the older folks..."

... it's strange to confess that their mom wants them dead because they're ''BAD'' at crime, because that seems like the most obvious thing in the world.

"But... I don't want this to change anything with the Cardboard Dragon. That's separate and precious to me, as is when I request help from you."

Shinobu does say that she doesn't mind, and she does move back to lean against you. "... I feel so... grateful to have this -- to have you. Thank you..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Myunghon explains, then. Shinobu listens, as they explain about the White Dragon this place was supposed to be a front for...

...So that explains the name.

"So that's why, huh...? Just 'cause you were trying to do things your own way..." She shakes her head. 'Distasteful'. She can imagine what kind of things they might've changed.

She offers them a smile, though, when they say they don't want it to change anything.

"Don't worry. That's not gonna change. We've built up our own thing, now." She says, and chuckles just slightly as she mentions requesting help. "That, either."

They lean against her, then.

"No problem. I'm glad, too." Shinobu assures. She shifts her arm, starting to put it around their shoulders - though she pauses for a second, first. "Uh, d'you mind if I...?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Even Myunghon is underestimating how much more relief they feel when they finally explain all of this. Having been in charge of a criminal group in silence for a full year, transforming it from a traditional criminal group to more of a gray-area organisation...

"The Zainichi already have a difficult time, and police crackdowns of yakuza and other groups and public perception is changing fast... I didn't think they could survive if they stayed the way they were, so we focused on the gray areas to survive... or at least, that's how I viewed it. The old guard have other views."

At least, that's the rational, logical presentation they're putting on it. The morals of it all is another aspect, one that perhaps makes them unsuited to it. Shinjiro has a point when he says their path isn't one of death and violence.

"... that's right," Myunghon can't help but have a little smile as well, feeling some relief as Shinobu reassures them they've built their own thing. But then Shinobu asks if they mind if...

And then Myunghon snuggles a little closer to say, "I want you to do a bit more of that."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Shinobu nods in understanding as Myunghon explains how things went.

"I guess some folks are so used to the old ways it's hard to do anything different... even if times are changing around them." She comments.

Myunghon agrees with her, and she's glad to see that smile on their face, after everything. It's their turn to assure ''her'', though.

"Then..." Shinobu nods - and completes the motion, putting her arm around their shoulders and pulling them in gently, leaning against them in turn.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-20: Type Help

2025-11-22T02:38:23Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: Type Help''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Umie Akabane *'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' November 21, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 14, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Myunghon attempts to access the help directory (no such directory found) and also texts Umie following the events that led Sudou to be in their storefront. Umie's attempts to calm them lead them to fall further into masking as Merry.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon..."

*'''Log: Type Help'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Umie Akabane]]
*'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' November 21, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 14, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Myunghon attempts to access the help directory (no such directory found) and also texts Umie following the events that led Sudou to be in their storefront. Umie's attempts to calm them lead them to fall further into masking as Merry.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
However Umie Akabane's Saturday was going, she receives a somewhat uncanny text from Myunghon:

> help

Myunghon usually takes a bit of time to compose their messages online and on the phone, so this is already unusual enough on its own.

> cd help

This is the last text that Myunghon sends for a bit, which for all anyone knows was meant to take them to the help directory. By the time Umie arrives, she finds the Cardboard Dragon... well, not burnt to the ground, but perfectly intact, actually -- inside, Myunghon is... seated against the counter, looking rather pale and terrified, face slicked in seat as they huddle against their white coat. They have a chocolate-coloured blouse on, with a black ribbon tie, white inverted pleat skirt, leggings, white shoes.

They don't look roughed up or harmed, but it's quite clear they're beyond perturbed.
Shinjiro Aragaki has arrived from Historia: The White Chronicle.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
<poem> -----------LATER-----------

Umie will go meet up with Tamaki, as promised, to show her Tartarus, and be angry at a Dirt Man yanking a man into the Dark Hour, likely while keeping all of this in the back of her mind.

-----------BEFORE-----------

Umie recieves a text as she watches her laundry spin in the dryer.

She frowns as she types. Was this a mistake, or something else?

> everything ok???

Nothing.

Like the times when Mai-chan goes on for long periods without saying a word, it's often the moments where nothing happens that become the most alarming periods of all.

-----------NOW-----------

There is no one at the fire escape door, because Umie, despite knowing Myunghon's opinion on breaking and entering, is taking the other way in. _Let it be an opinion, this is an emergency_.

Besides, if all goes well, Myunghon (as well as anyone that may be currently attacking the Cardboard Dragon) won't even know Umie is here until it's too late. (For them, that is. Not Umie. Umie will *not* be too late here.)

There in the shop proper, when Umie feels it's safe enough, the shroud is allowed to dissipate, though Umie's resonance stays hidden.

"Yeo-san." Umie's voice is quiet, carefully broaching her existence without it being too much of a shock; it's possible that Myunghon may have noticed her coming in from the stairs, or not at all up until now, with Badb's shroud obscuring her presence cognitively. After all, Myunghon is expecting her, which sometimes is all that it takes to undo the spell, while at other times, it takes more.

The shroud isn't as much for Merry, besides.

Dressed in her usual casual clothing, Umie wouldn't look like anyone aside from a customer. (How many customers get serial killers to visit the places they frequent?)

"What happened? Is the danger still here?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon startles at the first sign of Umie speaking up, scrambling around like they've gone from their terrorised state to one of full fight-or-flight alert again, despite Umie's caution. Myunghon doesn't appear to have noticed Umie at all, distracted as they are, whispering, "Akabane-san-- Akabane-san..."

They try to peel themself off the floor as fast as possible, and ends up stumbling as they whisper, "There was someone here-- a blonde man--" Their thoughts are in a tangle, and they're not capable of untangling it so easily. "I'm certain he was a killer. He had a presence, Resonance, that was not unlike yours... and he was asking after you. I smelt-- there was blood on the money in his wallet, and I'm certain he had killed. Possibly recently..."

Myunghon's head is still stirring as they clutch onto Umie's shoulders. "I don't believe he was any random thug. No, there was a threat that I could not shake-- there should be video recording--" they're hyperventilating again at this point.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
<poem> The shroud is working, in fact. Maybe a little too well, as Myunghon startles, nonetheless. There's not much that can be done about that.

(At least Myunghon will miss where Umie came in from.)

'a blonde man--' There was... yes, Shinjiro had confirmed that the blonde man they both saw once was Sudou. But there's others, right?

There's... 'he was a killer.' Others. 'He had a presence.'

A resonance, not unlike hers. Blood on the money in his wallet.

It's funny, what can occur in the span of a heartbeat. Recognition, fear, relief, sadness, paranoia.

But the one she can't feel right now, *shouldn't feel*, is panic.

She can imagine it like a viper poised at the back of her mind, wanting to strike her in a moment of indecision.

Myunghon's hands clutch on Umie's shoulders; she closes her eyes, and lets a breath in, and then out.

"You've dealt with him before, right?" she murmurs, softly. "He wants to make you afraid, or, heck, he wants to stir shit up. Or throw us all into whirlwind so that we're not ready to counteract him the next time he strikes. You *know* who he is, Merry-san." She plants her own hands on Myunghon's shoulders, attempting to steady them. "Let's sit down, right now. Get something to drink. Hell, maybe he figured out we were trying to ally with the Phantom Thieves. I don't know what the hell his information network's like. So, we got to settle down, and think about our next plan of action. You *can* do this, Merry-san. This is where the leader part comes in."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
This is the Umie Akabane that assertively decided that Myunghon shouldn't have alcohol when they visited the Triple Seven that she worked at. In a single breath, she takes control, as she reminds them that he wants to make them afraid -- stir shit up. Throw them into a whirlwind. There's a timid noise from Myunghon, even as Umie reminds them that they know who he is--

Tatsuya Sudou.

"I--I can't...! Akabane-san, I'm too scared--" Myunghon's whimpering, hyperventilating, mind stirred, wincing a little as Umie mirrors the gesture and holds onto their shoulders. They're coaxed into a seat, at least.

''You can do this, Merry-san. This is where the leader part comes in.''

There's nothing but Myunghon's very loud, shaky whimpers and breathing for the first few moments... they reach for the black coat at the coat hanger to drape around themselves like a security blanket (very purposefully so), and then regulate their breathing further, cupping their hands into their face with one final whimper--

"... that's correct," answers Merry.

They left their head, and reach out for their phone. "The security cameras were operating within the premises of the Cardboard Dragon at the time. I doubt that he is so careless as to show his face, yet--"

A pause. A frown.

Merry hands the phone over silently to Umie Akabane, where there's a CCTV shot of the man -- blonde, in a pair of jeans and a red t-shirt and blue overshirt, but his face... it's as if there's a shadow stretching behind him, with black shadowy hands covering his face.

"He was taunting ''you'' as much as he was ''me'', now, is he not," Merry murmurs.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
<poem>
'I--I can't...! Akabane-san, I'm too scared--'

"You weren't this scared of him in Seven Sisters, remember?" It may have been a better tactic to be more sympathetic; that may be what Myunghon needs, right now. However, in this moment, with her own heart threatening to speed up--

Myunghon will see the twitch of Umie's mouth as she looks away, letting Myunghon have a chance to settle in. "I'm here now, there's nothing that can happen without me knowing about it."

Tall words; false words, on top of that.

"Yeah, if we have evidence, we can throw that at that reporter trying to bring his existence to light. If you saw his face, then..."

Umie trails off, as Myunghon frowns, and lets out a sigh. "No luck?"

She takes the phone from Myunghon, and stares at it for a moment.

".... What is this..." Her throat threatens to revolt, suddenly dry as sandpaper. "This is..."

Her hand rubs her face as the other goes to hand the phone back. "We just need to..."

Think, Umie, think. Try to get ahead of this.

"_I'm not giving him what he wants_," she finally hisses, one eye peeking through her hand.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
That was Merry, too, Myunghon would point out.

The compartmentalising is getting stronger, one could point out, but nevermind that. Merry is functional now; Merry is here. There's a delighted little smile, as opposed to that full-blown begging and panic moments ago, as Umie affirms that nothing can happen here without her knowing about it. Yes, that's the confidence they need.

"The reporter. Amano-san?" Merry comments. "Regardless, Akabane-san, the absence of evidence is in itself evidence... this is still an indication that that was no ordinary foe."

Umie's working through her own struggle, and Merry pulls forward, with an ease and confidence in their body language that wasn't there before. "We do have a contact in the police force that would believe us. Suou-san. He said his name is 'Taka Suho'... an obviously fake name."

A pause, as they turn to look beyond their shoulder to Umie. "Have you uncovered anything else about our friend here...?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
<poem> While Umie has yet to realize the separation between the two, there's definitely a change in how Myunghon operates. Umie can definitely tell.

Surely, Umie's pep talk wasn't *that* effective, was it?

Warm brown eyes widen, slightly, but Umie lets out a breath as she rolls with it.

"Y-yeah, Amano-san." Rolling her shoulders, Umie takes a seat on a surface nearby, be it chair or otherwise.

"I'm failing to see how a shadow will help us. Someone's going to take one look at that and say 'doctored'." She considers, bringing her left hand to her chin and crossing her legs. "I may be looking at this too literally, ie 'is this evidence that Amano-san can use'. We already know he's trouble, as well the fact that his Persona isn't like anything either of us have seen."

THe mention of Katsuya Suou brings a smile to Umie's face. "Indeed, he would--"

'Taka Suho.' "Eeh?" The flat look on Umie's face is unmistakable. Is he *trying* to get caught?!

Unless...

Is that what this is?!

'Have you uncovered anything else about our friend here....?'

"Just that he went after Tsubasa Seki-san at Aoba Park." She rubs her neck. "Seki-san was not happy to see me snooping around their business, and honestly, I don't blame them, with how the police have been acting. Some weirdo going around asking all their friends if they're okay? Yeah, that's suspicious as hell." She shrugs. "Meanwhile, I was trying to make up for lost time. Damn bastard gave me a concussion."

She thinks for a bit. "He was at another place too. Shinji-ku-- Aragaki-kun was with me, and recognized his face. He's either trying to stretch out his legs, or he knows we can't do anything if he's just out as a normal person."

Or, he wants to be caught, perhaps. Called out, even.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Umie's not the only one wearing masks. And when things do truly become too hard, it's best to delegate to a mask borne from a truly impossible, life-or-death choice. The revolution demands it.

"No, I'm not saying to take this to the media," Merry does clarify. "But this power was not known to me before. And his Resonance resembled yours. Perhaps a little bit too deliberately. I'd only known his powers from direct combat before, and yet..." A pause, as they surreptitiously glance to Umie. "Is this a manifestation of that... arm, I wonder." They're being coy, but they're very clearly indicating the Mark.

Is he trying to get caught?

"I am in privy to the Joker Killer's own identity myself... but perhaps it is best, if we both know, from your reaction, that we do not spell it out," observes Merry. But Umie talks about how Umie went to Tsubasa, and had a rough time... there's a deep frown as Umie shares that the Joker Killer gave her a concussion.

"I think it is quite certain that the police will do nothing about it. It's quite clear, from the way Suou-san alone has been treated. But we do not need to rely on them," murmurs Merry. "But it seems that he has taken an interest in us."

There's a wide, dangerous smile on Merry's face. "How intriguing."

This, from the person who was just about to have a breakdown a minute ago.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
<poem> Is it a manifestation of the Mark?

Umie frowns, then sighs, crossing her legs in a sitting position. "I guess I never went over that point." She sighs, drawing her fingers through her bangs. "By the way, I told Joker about the Mark finally. Figured he should know, if the NWO gets entangled in things. He knows that it's tied to the NWO, and that they gave to it me..."

"As well as the fact that the Old Maid apparently has it." Which was one point Umie forgot to clue Myunghon in on.

She'll correct that now, however. "He definitely has it, though I can't verify if his Mark is visible." She smirks. "It's not like I can go up and ask him to show his right wrist."

Unless... could it be that it's not always there...?

She rudely shoves that thought aside.

Myunghon's other words cause Umie to pause. Her lips thin into a line.

"... Yes. And yes again, for exactly that reason. It's been a pain, trying to thread needles like 'hey, police are covering this up' and not look like I'm just Ms. Obvious over here." She plants a hand on each knee. "But the difference between 'the police are covering up his crimes and blaming it on scapegoats' and 'they're doing this because he's..." She clears her throat. "... 'a complete bastard's son who I don't know the identity of, at all, especially not that guy, do you want to imply he's a bastard, you just did by assuming I meant that guy, etcetc'... yeah, it's a lot different, even if it leads to the same thing."

'How intriguing.'

There's a beat, where Umie's expression freezes, finding herself between two positions.

Does she want to be the one who yearns for someone to save her, or be the person who solves her own problems? There's only one choice here.

She answers with a widening smile of her own; one that Umie's given many, many times before. "Let him bring it."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It's fine that Myunghon Yeo is suffocating inside, begging for someone to save them. So long as they still have masks to play, then they can still interface with the world. That's the way the last few very difficult months, which have exposed them to a lot of physical, emotional and other kinds of violence, which could become reality at any moment, has shaped for them.

"Hmmm. I had already made that inference, but to have you confirm it is pleasant," Merry observes, with a widening smile as they tuck their head down, like they're enjoying being in the centre of a spider-web of information. "Why the right wrist? Perhaps whoever it is is making a statement that it is not the sinister hand that carries darkness."

Was that... a pun.

"You know. My father, Seiichiro Yukichi, is one of Tatsuzou Sudou's oldest friends," Merry suddenly points out after Umie speaks about the Joker Killer's role in things.

"And two years ago, at the cusp of the great worldwide recession, I capsized his corporation, Frey Pharmaceuticals."

They don't expand any further than that, but the implication is definitely very clear what they're saying here. Merry rises from their seat and rather lavishly drapes that black coat around themself further, as if it were going to smother them. "Well put, Akabane-san. There are more avenues of investigation to pursue here. And it is well that you are on better speaking terms with Joker, though--"

A pause.

"Would he agree to a one-on-one meeting if you facilitated it, in Mementos? I have some items I'd like to clarify with him."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
<poem> In a way, it's been the same for Umie: for all that she has loved the past few months, it has brought with it more and more knowledge of the tightrope that lies underneath her feet. Each time she hears the tones of Mai-chan is a time she feels scared when she doesn't hear it, and every time she doesn't hear it, she is afraid of the void left behind, gaping wide below each step. The battlefield is different for Myunghon, however; the stakes just as high.

"Same here. My senses aren't as good as yours." Umie frowns, as Myunghon asks the next question. "Because it's--"

Because it's the one ____________ put ___ ____ on.

"It doesn't matter," Umie hisses with a anger she instantly regrets, as she looks down.

Wait. The sinister hand. ".... God... I just got it..." Umie groans as she rubs her face. "That's a sinister pun, Merry-san."

Myunghon's father, one of Tatsuzou's... closest... friends. ".... I wonder if he ever heard about the time Tatsuzou thought it'd be great to--" She needs to stop. This venom is meant for only a few people.

Especially when Myunghon reveals the rest of the story, with their father. "... No love lost between you two, sounds like..." She swallows, beginning to realize the connotations of what that may mean.

It's likely for the best if it stays right here, Umie thinks.

'And it is well that you are on better speaking terms with Joker, though--'

Umie clears her throat. "I suppose, yes." Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it you'll blush and this is *not* a great look because he did literally nothing but be Joker for fuck's sake

One of the fingers close to her crossed ankle digs in. Right. Business. "If this is about the meeting, I think I could clarify a few things there too, if you want."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Umie's stopping herself a lot. What was it she was going to say? Merry doesn't particularly see fit to probe, though they do wonder what it is Umie thinks about Tatsuzou. "He is the reason I am in this state you see. No evidence, of course, but..." that vivid smile is just getting more and more dangerous.

If Merry picks up on how Umie feels about Joker, though, they don't comment on it. Hmmm. How intriguing. Perhaps they should play the field of romance a little too. Surprise Tsumugi. How do tactics apply there?

"... I would be pleased. We do not have particular means to contact each other other than you or Jose, so it may be more expedient," Merry does affirm. "Thank you, Akabane-san."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
<poem> It's definitely noticeable.

It's something spikey that lurks at the edges here; something that is called forth at Myunghon's smile.

It's an anger that so badly wants to be free.

.... Yet another place where Umie and Myunghon have their similarities, it seems.

Buit the thought of Joker and his own convictions and words (pushing aside the embarrassing feelings that flutter in her stomach, _you don't even know who he is, Umie_), brings with it a cold bucket of water.

They don't kill. It is that difference, even in terms of logistics and debate, that the Phantom Thieves are hard set on.

"Alright." Umie nods. "He's strict about the conditions they've set, and, in talking to him, I think it was pretty clever of him to do that." She motions with a hand. "It's not about us forcing each other to agree; it's about making sure everyone is on board. We should really ask ourselves if we're going to be the boon we're claiming to be, if we leave any back doors open to leave them unprepared."

She closes her eyes. "In my opinion, I think you should tell him everything, Myunghon. What Jose did, the attack at the warehouse, and even this," she says, indicating Sudou's surprise visit. "We're the ones that face the public; we can't be leaving any back doors open, or we'll be the ones that'll accidentally bring any allies down."

Her eyes open, and she grins. "We're not the Phantom Thieves, and that's a good thing, because there's already a Phantom Thieves. We are a Cardboard Dragon, however, and with it come those strengths and weaknesses. Consider what is the best way to help them, while considering our differences."

"That's my lecture. I'll pass the word on as best I can." She itches her cheek. "I think it'd be good for two leaders to meet one on one, eh?"
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-20: Renew your Mummery

2025-11-22T02:34:13Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: Renew your Mummery''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Saika Kikuchi *'''Where:''' The Peacock Silk, Shimokitazawa *'''OOC Date:''' November 20, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 13, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Myunghon wakes up in the Peacock Silk after spending the night with Tsumugi and runs into Saika in the morning. Terror ensues!!'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> Myunghon ended up spending the night in the Peacock Silk last night after..."

*'''Log: Renew your Mummery'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Saika Kikuchi]]
*'''Where:''' The Peacock Silk, Shimokitazawa
*'''OOC Date:''' November 20, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 13, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Myunghon wakes up in the Peacock Silk after spending the night with Tsumugi and runs into Saika in the morning. Terror ensues!!''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon ended up spending the night in the Peacock Silk last night after reuniting with Tsumugi, and... many things happened... which we can't show on primetime Japanese television. Or else tank the CERO rating. Still, after admitting that they were, in fact, suffocating, the exhaustion did overwhelm Myunghon and they ended up deciding that they weren't really in a state to go home all the way to Sumaru on their own, hence... why...

Well.

Today, Saika Kikuchi has an unexpected guest in the residential part of the Peacock Silk abode: a rather dazed-looking Myunghon Yeo stumbling out of Tsumugi's bedroom, a chocolate ruffle-blouse only hastily half-buttoned with their bandages in a state of disarray (somewhat showing grotesque, old burn and slash scars underneath), and also covered in black lipstick all around their face like they just lost at a new years' game of hanetsuki.

They have their white skirt on, at least, but it's also not the most well-put together at this time either. They look deathly thirsty and is half-stumbling around like someone dessicated in the desert in desperate search of water.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
<poem>
There is a sound of free flowing water.

Then a sound of a sink.

Then a sound of a door opening.

And then, there is Saika.

Standing in the bathroom doorway, she is able to get a good look at Myunghon. Her eyes widen slowly, in a lovingly animated way - the only motion in her, or in the scene, for a heart-stopping nearly three seconds as she takes in everything about Myunghon.

The blouse.

The disarrayed bandages and the glimpses of the scarring beneath.

The black lipstick.

*ALL* of the black lipstick...

And a rustled skirt.

After this, Saika rests an elbow against the doorframe.

"You look like shit," she says, in a tone of relative cheer. "You need to get in here?" At which point she steps out of the bathroom and gestures inside. Her face has a hard to read expression - was that true or false cheer??

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon lets out a terrified yip (yeah, that's the only way to describe that noise) and just about jumps up out of their skin like a mortified little guinea pig because this still feels like they're uncomfortably intruding on someone's home. Plus, it's mortifying to be seen like ''this'', even if it's, ultimately, Saika. "I--I'm sorry! I'm terribly sorry, I just need some water and I'll be on my way--" their head is already swimming. Ohh, please, have the energy to place the Merry mask on... no, it's really not happening.

Something about the cheer, perhaps, is activating a lot of their anxiety, like they're reading judgement behind it.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
<poem>
Saika meets Myunghon's eye for a few moments.

Her expression softens.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "C'mon," she continues, raising a hand to beckon Myunghon along -- if they don't move it, Saika graduates to literal wrist-taking.

"Unless you gotta run because you're late for medicine or something, I'm going to make you breakfast," she says. "You can hydrate while I'm doing it, okay? You got any favorites?"

Saika does look back, in the middle of guiding and/or towing Myunghon to the area of the kitchen and dining space. "You do need to wash your face and like --" she gestures at the general torso area, "I can see stuff, I figure you want to hide it."

"I know what it's like," Saika continues, before looking away again.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It does take a bit of wrist-taking -- which does solicit some kind of trauma response in Myunghon as they beg apology once again before stopping and letting Saika wrangle them, as she insists that she's going to make them breakfast. "Um... beansprouts?" they lamely say. "Most foods taste... bad to me. Taste disorder. Anything bland isn't too bad, though," they work through in somewhat clipped, staccato-like nerviness.

Myunghon is pretty easy to wrangle, though, as they tuck their arms a little tighter around their chest (their binder is off at this point), and nods quietly, saying, "Do you have any bandages...?"

A pause, as Saika says she knows what it's like.

They remember -- the urgency in which she leapt to their side when they said that they'd received a wound on their belly. That does get Myunghon to pause for a moment longer, before murmuring, "... t-thank you, Saika." They do end up finding the nearest sink to at least wash the lipstick off and dabbing away with paper towels. Water in their throat and on their face has them shocked a little into life again, at the very least.

"I suppose Tsumugi left already..." they mumble. "They were looking unwell yesterday."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
<poem>
"... Beansprouts?" Saika says, furrowing her brow as they actually reach the kitchen.

"I'm not gonna give you beansprouts for breakfast," Saika says with a hand on her hip. "Can you like tolerate rice and eggs? Like even if you have to choke it down. I can do beansprouts on ''top'' if that's like your best thing but I mean," a vague gesture, "you have to eat, you know?"

Even if you hate it.

There's less scolding in her tone as she gets a 500ml glass out of a cabinet and fills it from a jug in the fridge, which seems to just be crisp cool water. She proffers it, and sets the rest of the jug on the nearby counterspace.

And after that, she reaches down to untuck her giallo-film shirt and -- not push further. Weird thing to do. "I dunno," Saika says. "They get like this sometimes. It'll pass. Sometimes I had to go in there and like... spoon feed them miso and rice and everything..."

Saika smirks a little. "I still think I got taken for a ride on that one."

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
<poem>
("You mean like wraps or like little ones?" Saika asks, about the bandages.)
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"Wraps," Myunghon pulls at some of the gauze wraps still sheathing their body like they're a mummy. But Saika insists that she's not going to just give Myunghon beansprouts, and asks if they can choke down their food. There's another nervy look, and they quietly say, "I--I suppose. I know..."

Which is perhaps all the indicator Saika needs to know this person definitely foregoes eating a lot, given their rail-thin build and general unhealthiness.

The meekness doesn't really go away from them at present, even as they realise how disheveled their clothes are and starts fixing them -- feeling awkward without that binder or leggings on. The clothes are very cute, at least. There's a side-glance to Saika as she tucks down on her shirt, but they're not going to go exploring with their eye or anything.

"... that sounds very familiar. I guess that's what you're doing now, even," Myunghon murmurs, wishing they had a mirror right now to check if the mangled part of their face is showing. (Just a little. It really is mostly the lipstick.) "How did you get together with them? The-- crew, I mean, not... er--" Well, she did get taken for a ride.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
<poem>
Saika nods once at the confirmation, turns her eyes towards the ceiling, and then says - "I thhhink so, I can get it out for you. Or like, I can lend you a top or something if you need it, you're gonna be back here sometime, right? Or I can come by if I'm in Sumaru being the great detective."

She pushes the water forwards. Tu bebes agua. That's Spanish, baby. The language of love.

"... maybe a little," Saika says with a faint smirk. "I do some good eggs, though, and I bet you need those more than the rice, right? Rice is great but it's pretty bland!" oh no is she going to prepare a feast

a feast... of ashes??

"Mm," Saika says. "Well..."

"I was in a bad place," Saika says, after another of those pauses, "and they were... there for me. It was just... I don't know. I guess I feel a responsibility, right? And they're great, I mean, no complaints. Best thing that ever happened to me!"

Saika then reaches down to the edge of her shirt. "And... well, there's something you ought to know."

"... shit," Saika says, after several more tense seconds, "this is actually hard, haha, I feel so dumb. I was gonna kind of... I mean, when I say "I know how it is," I mean it, and -- okay," her head tilts forwards, and then little miss punk rock pulls up her shirt!!!

Don't get too excited. It's just to about ribcage level, and other than a scandalously black sports bra's under-side, nothing is really showing. If Myunghon looks, though, they can see a rather impressive scar: from the center line of the rib cage, down a few CMs, and then split into two limbs, the longer one extending to the right with a shorter one to the left. They might be reminded, horribly, of the logo of a Mercedes-Benz automobile.

After a second or two, Saika pulls her shirt back down. She doesn't speak right away; she actually turns to start getting some things out of the fridge. Mostly a dozen eggs. (Well, it's actually nine eggs, but it started as twelve.)

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon opens their mouth once, before shaking their head to say, "I could just button the coat I came with... that might work easier." Other than the fact that it's going to be BOILING in August still in a coat despite you always running cold and needing extra layers, yes. There's a delicate smile as they both accept water and take a long gulp (it does resurrect them), then says, "Oh, I'd like to see you around more often. I haven't... thanked you for helping us in that warehouse."

Where that guy died. Head exploded in front of them and all. Akira Hayashi still haunting their nightmares.

Myunghon gets the sense that they'd better appeal to Saika's pride of cooking than their own challenges with food, then, and says, "I--I think so. Egg whites aren't too bad." Except Saika looks all geared up to make some real proper yangzhou fried rice, fuiyuuuh.

But Saika tells her story -- vaguely -- but it's a relatable one. Being in a bad place, and... the Peacock Silk being there for them. That genteel smile is still there as they quietly cling onto their water. "... that was really how I ended up meeting Tsumugi too..."

But Saika has something Myunghon should know -- and the rumourmonger tenses up gently, Saika struggling through it. Myunghon does walk forward and gently places a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay... take your time," Myunghon does reassert gently, before--

Shirt!! Up!!

Myunghon's singular eye widens at the sight, feeling a great amount of discomfort at how... how...

Ritual, it looks, is the first word that comes to mind.

"That was why, that time I said I was cut..." Myunghon murmurs, discomfited. "Oh, Saika..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
<poem>
As Myunghon looks visibly less wizened after the glass of water, Saika turns around to refill it. A whole liter?! Will you float away, Myunghon?

About the top versus the coat: "Mmh... I dunno... the trains don't have great AC that far out..." The hand on her shoulder, at least, makes her smile.

As she gets out a pan, Saika continues, with an air of relief - the worst in the rear view mirror. "Don't worry! That was actually from surgery, believe it or not. They had to take out my whole liver! I can't even remember exactly what it was, haha!"

Saika's probably lying about that.

"Saved my life," which Saika sounds surprisingly neutral about as she puts the pan on the nearby stove-top and then gets out a bowl, into whence not one, not two, but THREE eggs are cracked -- followed by a fourth. After this, she reaches up -- a little soy sauce, a little mirin - are you 'mirin' her mirin? it is from the store -- to get the eggs sauced, and then begins to whip them with a fork.

"But yeah, for like a whole year I had to be super paranoid about it starting bleeding," Saika says, her eyes wide. "It was like I had to take care of a little sick kitten except ''I'' was the sick kitten! It got like, ''better'' after that, but still. I take that kind of thing seriously."

A pause. Whip whip whip whip whip go the egg egg egg egg.

"Anyway... about the warehouse... I basically just did what I always do. I was kind of sweating it, though, since I was used to those characters upstairs," what an old-folksy way of putting it, "backing me up the way they usually do. But it worked out!"

mostly

"So... you don't have to worry about it. But I won't fight you if you wanna treat me for lunch, either."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon is definitely plastering a masked smile at the mirin because they just know it'll be absolutely delicious for normal people and absolutely revolting for them and they're going to just have to choke it down. Dashi for most, dashed for Myunghon. It's definitely rude to object at this point.

They're gonna have to go to the bathroom so hard after this after that much water, though. "I'll be fine. It isn't the first time," they murmur, of the trains. But they also do admit: "I-- thought you were harmed by someone ritualistically trying to carve you open, or..."

Now they sound a little bit foolish about it.

They let go and step back cause it's cooking time and they're garbage at the kitchen, though. (That's not fair, they've had success baking. That's an entirely different thing, though.) "It... was like that for me, yes," Myunghon does observe on wound management. "There was a month-stretch where none of my doctors believed I would make it. The taste and smell went away because of flu from having a compromised immune system. One of several."

There's a more comfortable smile as they say, "I don't mind treating you to lunch. Sumaru or around here?"

In the midst of egg-fryin', Myunghon does pause to say: "Tell me about those movies on your shirts..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
<poem>
Going to the bathroom is everyone's romance!
-daisuke ido, local idiot

A spray of oil in the pan and Saika turns on the stove. More whipping afterwards, and she looks over to Myunghon. "Oh, my god, that SUCKS! I am so sorry to hear. Are you better now? If you're on immunosuppressants I know a couple of like, tricks? I mean they worked for me but I was a kid," Saika says with the shrug of her shoulders.

"And hmmm... Sumaru... but I wanna tell you," Saika says as she walks over to pour the egg blend into the pan and start giving it industrious and frequent jiggling with a silicone rubber spatula, "I don't eat meat, so keep that in mind if you want to make a recommendation."

A moment or two after, and she says, "This? Oh, this is this awesome old movie. This ballet student goes to ballet school in Germany and a whole lot of people get murdered. It turned out the headmistress-- do you like horror movies? I don't wanna spoil it. There IS a peacock though, which is how I got SOMEBODY to sit his feathered ass down and watch instead of demanding attention."

"Sometimes I think I should get a TV in my room if I want to watch movies..."

"If you're up to it, can you get a couple of plates out of the cabinet there?" Saika says, pointing. Oh, a ''couple'' of plates - she's probably going to eat some of this herself. As the eggs keep on cooking, Saika reaches up to turn on the fan. Considerateness? Maybe. Maybe she's just doing it for herself (b-baka).

"Anyway, they're Italian movies originally... apparently there are a LOT of Italian movies."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"They said it wouldn't ever be as strong, and I do get sick more easily... I also have to watch out for infections," Myunghon ruminates, though they shake their head on the mention of immunosuppressants. "No, I do have several I'm on forever, but nothing in that category..." Though that does makes sense, that Saika would know of them, if a transplant of some kind was involved.

... Frankenstein's Monster, huh.

"Ara, that is well to know," Myunghon does nod on Saika's vegetarianism. She's cooking eggs, so Myunghon can rule out being vegan, at least. "I'm much the same way... there's this unflavoured pea protein that I tolerate quite well. I've been playing with turning it into jelly. But there's an izakaya run by someone who might be an oil baron or the mistress of a Russian Tsar during the cold war that has excellent food."

The movie, though!

"O-oh. Um-- well, I'm pretty skittish..." Myunghon basically answers 'no' to horror movies. "Mm. Does the peacock die?" A pause. "No, is the peacock the murderer?"

Saika asks for plates, though, and Myunghon does get up to go fetch -- there's a pause and a wince as they reach overhead, but they push through the pain, since it's just two plates and they're not about to horribly harm themself even if it falls on them. "I imagine. Out of everyone who has their hands on a camera, at least some of them must go, 'I have a brilliant idea I must capture on film.'"

They put the plates out to serve. "It'd be boring if it was only American or Japanese films, right?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
<poem>
"Mm," Saika tells Myunghon with a slight nod. "Yeah... I was able to taper off, but I was lucky," she says, before she snorts for a moment.

"So... about the jelly... protein jelly actually sounds really good, honestly, lemme try it if you make some? Just like a little bit. But really, it's pea protein? Huh." At this point she takes the pan off the stove and walks over to serve up the eggs, which she splits about evenly. She then reaches over to get stuff out of the inevitable rice cooker:

"Is it Russian food? Cuz if it's Russian or Arabic food, that's pretty much a giveaway, right?"

Then she laughs for a moment. "It WOULD, but now there's so many fuckin' movies to see! I guess most of them are bad, but even if one in ten are worth seeing, you know, that's a lot of movies. Do you know what country makes the MOST movies? Go on, guess."

While this is challengingly set in the air, Saika goes into the fridge and gets a thing of some kind of red sauce out - one of those home filled squeezy bottles. She liberally douses her eggs, and perhaps without much thought, gives Myunghon a little dab of it. (It's intense garlic-heavy chili paste - home made - not so much hot-hot-hot as *flavorful.*)

After this, Saika picks up her plate, grabs a fork out of the HOPEFULLY CLEAN dish-drying rack's silverware compartment, and raises it up. "Thanks for the breakfast~!" she says, with a tone of irony, before getting her Scarf on. This silences her, blessedly, for a few moments.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"... let's celebrate to both of us being lucky, then," Myunghon does resolve, of both of their medical traumas. "And-- yes... I wasn't... eating properly, some people at the Cardboard Dragon took notice and started trying to figure things out for me. I have some sporty friends who have protein shakes a lot, and I started studying what that contains, and there's unflavoured versions that don't taste horrible, then we started playing around with freezing them into ice cubes or turning them into jelly. If you come by, I usually have some in the fridge as emergency food."

There's a mild chuckle as they say, "It's izakaya food, but with a personal twist. Ma'am really knows how to cook. Her famous dish is the Banana Ramen, but she can even make food I can enjoy. The details are a secret, though."

Which country makes the most movies? Myunghon considers that. "Umm... India," they observe. "I know Hindi cinema is a massive industry, I had a client once, and mother often spoke of it... I don't think she ever starred in one, though." Their mom is a movie star?

But then-- perhaps it's early to celebrate being lucky, because now they have hot sauce on their eggs.

MYUNGHON YEO'S SPICE TOLERANCE:
Black pepper is a challenge.

"A-ah... thank you for the breakfast," Myunghon mirrors the words, though their face is a little bit blue as -- hiiii -- they do force the food down... ah...

Thanks for everything, Saika Kikuchi... I'm going ahead now, the voices are calling me.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
<poem>
"Huh, that's neat," Saika says. "I heard they put a lot of like meat and stuff into protein shakes, though. Is that true? I mean, I guess I don't really need it, I can just eat a brick of tofu!"

Which, Saika thinks, might be --?? No, she doesn't push past it. "Banana ramen..."

Her lips purse for a moment. "That was what I was going to say -- India makes more movies than like ''anywhere''. It's like China, it's huge, but I guess it's also got a lot of people who like to go to the movies."

After finishing her food, Saika waits - and watches - perhaps in case Myunghon is deeply suffering. She also tops off the water, and -- without averting her gaze from their responses -- reaches into the fridge to get herself a juice, which is twisted open and swigged. (There were several others.)

Don't die, myunghon...
the sauce has probiotics

"Lemme know if you need to sit down or anything," Saika says.

A moment later, she asks - perhaps to take Myunghon's attention off the promise of the next life - "Did you think I was going to be mad at you, by the way?"

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"Perhaps...? I do not know a lot about it, but the type I buy is made from peas," Myunghon considers, as they think about tofu. It's so close to being the perfect food, but it does trigger the sensations. But perhaps if they boiled it enough...? It's gotten them thinking about tofu again. ... it's reminding them of that dinner with mother, though, and that's unpleasant. They can't believe they have tofu trauma.

"It's quite true. Mother said that she nearly had a deal to star in some big comedy movie, once, but... I suppose it never quite came through," Myunghon murmurs idly. Why're they bringing up mom again? She's on their mind, now.

Myunghon is kinda suffering through their food, but they're wearing the 'oh god please be polite at all costs no matter how much suffering it causes you' mask in play, taking long sips of water in the process. They definitely have sit down at this point.

Then--

"... maybe?" Myunghon does squeak out. "I'm-- I don't know how these things are... Tsumugi's my-- first. Not, last night, I mean, but." Now they sound really embarrassed and mortified. "I've been having a bad time, so I'm very mousy right now." Or in general, as mother would point out to them.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
<poem>
Tofu trauma, tofu drama... perhaps a tofu mama can ease this, sometime.

Saika then, to her own apparent surprise, blushes; one hand comes up to cover her mouth for several seconds. She lowers her hand then, with a little effort at first. She takes another sip of her juice.

"It's fine, I don't care," Saika says, shrugging her shoulders. "I was being a little wry 'cuz I was still waking up. Here, we have some chairs over here." Four chairs around a table, and a stool with some step-stairs built in. (After-market modification. Guess who sits there. Bet you can't. Hint: They don't use a fork and knife, ever.)

Saika pulls out one chair - perhaps it's the guest chair - for Myunghon to plant their butt in. At this point, she says, "I'm not... jealous. Like, we've actually talked about that, early on, just... I mean we didn't do it directly but I understood, they understood, don't worry about it. I'mma go get you those bandages by the way, if you want me to stay in the kitchen while you get ready, that's fine--"

Despite these professions, she does seem embarrassed, but there really doesn't seem to be anger there. "Be right back, don't run off," Saika says as she disappears around a corner, no doubt to plunder the bathroom.

.......

Saika returns, long enough for it to have been a notable absence! She's holding up a roll of bandaging suitable for making oneself look yankii as hell! Or serving as a binder; they're flexible. "Here you go," Saika says, putting it down off to the side. "I hope the eggs aren't too bad. Do you drink coffee?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It's incredibly cute that there's four chairs, one of which is very evidently Pernelle's chair. ... perhaps they need a pet peacock, is what they need, Myunghon thinks. Though does Pernelle count as one, outside of disguises?

Saika does clarify she was just being wry because she was waking up. "Y-yes, I was also not really... awake either," Myunghon does admit. And she does say that she isn't jealous -- they've all talked about that. "Yanagi had mentioned that as well. It's..." they glance. "Even if you'd all discussed it, I still feel like a... um, well, an outsider..."

Saika does run off to get bandages, taking a while to do it, which does leave Myunghon to stew with their own thoughts and how much they do mean that and how much they have to work through -- it's one thing to say it was an open relationship, but another to work through their reactions and feelings... and that counts for Shinobu too.

"I think you saved me," Myunghon does answer without hesitation. "I probably might have collapsed if I tried to go home without food in me. I hadn't eaten in... too long." They shake their head gently, though. "No... I do have tea though."

They accept the bandages, though, so they get up to walk to the bathroom. "Thank you. I'll just be a bit..."

And off they go! To go renew their mummery.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-19: Are You Suffocating

2025-11-20T05:15:52Z

Merilan:

*'''Log: Are You Suffocating'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Tsumugi Kujaku]]
*'''Where:''' Peacock Silk, Shimokitazawa
*'''OOC Date:''' November 19, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 13, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Rumourmonger Merry intrudes upon Tsumugi Kujaku and takes no for an answer, finding a different side to the tailor they haven't yet before. As the seething, strangling hope within the garden grows, however, Tsumugi dispels the notion with but a simple question.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon Yeo has found themself up on Tsumugi Kujaku's lap.

*record scratch*

Yyyyyes, that's them right there! How did they get into this situation, you might ask?

Well, So-young somewhat goaded them into masking into Merry when they were waiting at a cafe just before this, and that was how they ended up swanning right into the front entrance of the Peacock Silk, finding the tailor present, and then, without even so much as a greeting or warning, barged right into the middle of whatever it is they were doing, and rather rudely just pulled themself in and cattishly planted themself right ontop of their lap, whether or not it was convenient.

They're dressed not in Tsumugi's designs, but Mei Arisugawa's -- the chocolate ruffle-blouse, the black brooch ribbon tie, the white A-line inverted pleat skirt, the leggings, the white Mary Janes... the white coat slung over their shoulders. They've got their lily-of-the-valley fragrance worn again today.

And now they're making themself Tsumugi's problem.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
Tsumugi Kujaku has been away.

It started maybe a week ago; though, given how irregular their schedule is, and how often they just elect not to be part of a given conversation or activity at any point in time, for any length in time, how long ago it ''actually'' started is very much an open question. Regardless: what matters is that for some reason, the young tailor of Peacock Silk just seemed to disappear. They stopped taking orders; they stopped with their various... side jobs...; they stopped replying to texts, dms, or answering or returning phonecalls for the truly oldest of schools;

They simply became a ghost, for that maybe-a-week, before suddenly their commissions reopened and they started returning calls or answering whatever their latest texts and dms were (and literally no others) as if the past maybe-a-week had never even happened.

The rare regulars at Peacock Silk have gotten used to this by now; the variety of services that they provide are simply too valuable.

But it does make ''some'' of them rather anxious to pick up the work when the opportunity arises.

Which leads to--

NOW

Where the double doors of Peacock Silk boom wide open with the sight of--

--not a rumormonger?!--

but an impatient-looking, middle-aged business man, marching straight towards Tsumugi Kujaku's atelier.

"Kujaku! I know you're here -- I have an urgent matter I need to--"

He gets about halfway towards said atelier before he catches sight of--

--a rumormonger?!--

dressed in a chocolate ruffle-blouse, a black brooch ribbon tie, a white A-line inverted pleat skirt, leggings and Mary Janes, the sleeves of their coat whipping past his face like streamers in the wind as Myunghon Yeo catches up past him and overtakes him, on their way to--

*record scratch*

-- planting themself right on Tsumugi Kujaku's lap?!

Yes; Tsumugi Kujaku is here, seated on their work station. Dressed in a black suit (and, it seems, little else besides, beyond the canny glimpse of a gold binder before the precarious plunge of that suit is buttoned up), matching slacks and polished oxfords that have been modified to be gold-toed, with lips a matching shade to go with the deep and aggressive black of their eyeliner and shadow, they make for a silhouette shadow that nigh-perfectly frames Myunghon's ''slightly'' more colorful figure as they suddenly find themself with a lapful of the rumormonger.

Unexpected. Do they blink?

--do they look a little paler than usual--?

Neither questions with answers in the immediate sense as Myunghon finds a black clad arm wrapping 'round them, from shoulder to collar bone, to draw them closer against their new perch.

"It'll wait," is all they say to the increasingly flustered-looking man.

He starts to bluster out a, "But it's ''been'' waiting--"

Before Tsumugi, perching their chin on Myunghon's shoulder, looks at him with that steady, placid stare.

"Unless you want to discuss your business now?" they suggest, simply. The man hesitates visibly.

And then just throws his hands into the air and mutters out all sorts of frustrated noises as he leaves Peacock Silk angry.

Not for the first time.

All this leaves Myunghon in Tsumugi's lap. And now in their grasp. Their gaze is still focused forward, towards the space that man once occupied. Their gaze almost... off somewhere else?

"You made yourself comfortable," is their first observation for Myunghon, regardless of anything else.

They sound.

''Fascinated''.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"It ''will'' wait," Merry adds in a practiced business tone to the middle-aged businessman. For a moment in time, the funerary body is evoking the dead spirit of Myorei Yukichi telling someone that their issue ''isn't'' important enough to be a meeting, it will be an e-mail they will check on their own time, in concert with Tsumugi's statement of fact. They drape one of their arms carefully (it does hurt) around the tailor's black suit, a rather dangerous gleam in their one gray eye as they seem terribly at ease at their sudden newfound role as armcandy. Lapcandy? (Why do they have nothing on underneath except their binder. That gold binder is really cute--)

Then there is silence, as the man disappears.

"Hmmm. And now it's just us," Merry remarks in turn as a quiet smile creeps into their face, leaning their head forward to rest against where Tsumugi's chin had roosted on their shoulder.

"You look rather wan. Has your disappearance afflicted you?"

They trail a long finger up Tsumugi's cheek, softly, so as to not smear against any of that beautiful eyeliner or mascara. It's all very attractive, after all. "But now I am here too. And you, in turn, can make me wait," comes the almost-pleased observation of Rumourmonger Merry, almost in contrast with what they said last time.

"It would not be the first time."

It's said almost playfully, not annoyed or demanding, as if it were just an observation of fact. This isn't the sobbing, drowning Myunghon of their last few encounters; this is the mask Myunghon wears, the one that bears such a Hope that would seethe and strangle all other sentiments in its spread.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
''You look rather wan. Has your disappearance afflicted you?''

They sound ''fascinated'', you see...

"Ara."

... because this is ''fascinating''.

The way Tsumugi so casually and brazenly holds Myunghon close -- it's something they would do normally, of course, but right now? Right now it's an improvisational calculation made in a moment of rare, sublime, uncertainty. Something unexpected happened; and now Tsumugi wants to test it. They're certain that normally such a situation - drawn so intimately close, in a public setting, with company - would be mortifying for Myunghon Yeo. They can imagine a whole host of responses from the proprietor of the Cardboard Dragon.

None of them are this.

And yet... it's not unfamiliar either, is it? Tsumugi's seen glimpses of this before. This fascinating... mask? ... Myunghon wears.

But never like this. So how could they help but prod?

Myunghon is right, of course: 'wan' is the most appropriate way to describe how Tsumugi looks right now, subtle and easily missed with their demeanor, but there. But at the moment, Tsumugi's response is just that simple 'ara' as green eyes finally drift back towards Myunghon, catching only glimpses of them in the periphery of their vision thanks to their respective positions.

"Are you worried about me?"

The question comes and goes; a finger draws up towards the high and prominent curve of Tsumugi's cheekbone. They're here. Tsumugi can make them wait. That voice, so close, tickles at their ear.

Playful. Confident. Brazen even, perhaps. It pairs well with that floral scent, evoking memories of the first pair of times they met.

They could make them wait, couldn't they? They've done so before; they likely will again. Or--

They don't provide a verbal answer; not yet. Maybe they ''are'' going to make Myunghon wait again. And yet body language, too, is a language, isn't it? The way they shift, head lifting and pulling away to urge Rumormonger Merry's comfortable perch up and off; the way their hand at their collar lifts, arm crooked at the elbow, until they can capture Myunghon's chin.

The way they tilt their own head until they can look at the rumormonger eye-to-eye, or as close as one can get in their relative situations, to watch them with an expression writ with pension. Rapt.

They could ask what caused this sudden change in attitude in Myunghon. It'd be the easy way; and they might still yet. But for right now, Tsumugi settles for the thing that they're most curious about, as they inspect Merry's pale, bandaged features.

"How do you feel?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
For those who've seen Myunghon in supernatural spaces, the difference is quite stark -- gone is the meek, soft, gentle proprietor of the Cardboard Dragon who, even today, never truly feels comfortable on the streets, looking around every corner and feeling as if a shadow is creeping on them, a response built from the trauma both emotional and physical they've endured in just the past few months.

In its place is the bold, vivacious, dangerous leader of the Cardboard Dragon group who wrested Hirasaka's safety back from the hands of Kaneshiro. Who saved Taro Nakata from the clutches of the Homunculus with the others. But it is true, glimpses of it have peeked out before...

"Hmmm. Yes," answers Myunghon -- Merry -- rather succinctly, not in that typical gentle way of theirs, but as if they've decided worry for Tsumugi is also something they'd rather grasp into their hands rather than discard. "You are an enigma, after all. You carry yourself so splendidly, that even your disappearances cannot help but intrigue... and yet..."

The smile creeps to dangerous territory, their gray eye widening and looking a bit duller, that gaze seemingly drinking in that body language, every moment of their entire time together.

"You can tire, too. That which rests under so many layers of masks that we both wear..."

As Tsumugi adjusts themself, Merry follows suit slowly, though they don't resist one bit when the tailor brings their hand to lift their chin up. Merry themself leans themself so close their noses could touch. The lily-of-the-valley. A poisonous flower. A poisonous hope. Its meaning in the language of flowers is rote -- purity, joy, love, sincerity... and yet it isn't without danger underneath. Perhaps danger attracts danger.

"How could I not find that fascinating? As you yourself have found me fascinating this last month."

But Tsumugi's not the only one wan -- as powerful as the facade the Rumourmonger is presenting, they're shattered right now; the bag underneath their eye is heavier than normal, and they, too, are paler than their usual. The way their clothes drape against them feel a little less lively, like they don't have the energy to be as fastidious with their image as usual. Behind that mask that's presenting itself so powerfully...

The Myunghon Tsumugi's become intimately is screaming even louder underneath.

"I'm just fine," answers Merry in contrast.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
''So your Hope seethes throughout a garden, strangling out every other sentiment in its spread?''

''Mm. I like that. I hope I can see it with my own eyes some day.''

The words Tsumugi gave Myunghon the day they first truly talked ring no more clearly than they do at this moment. The bold leader of Cardboard Dragon drapes on the tailor this day; the roots of their inspiring confidence wind throughout the soil that is Myunghon Yeo, musing as to the nature of Tsumugi's current, pallid state not out of concern, but rather interest.

The vines stretch out beautifully, musing on the mystery that is Tsumugi Kujaku. How they carry themself. How they intrigue

How even they can be weak too.

It's a beautiful thing, the way Rumormonger Merry flowers in Myunghon's proverbial soil.

'Return to happiness'. It's a rather fitting meaning for a poisonous flower, Tsumugi thinks in this moment.

What - after all - could be more poisonous than that smile on the rumormonger's lips?

Merry leans in towards their touch. Nose dares to just barely bump nose, until the slightest shift brings the very tip of Tsumugi's brushing Merry's in a practical phantom touch. The tailor says nothing to the rumormonger's fascination in the immediate. Those bright, intense green eyes just watch them. Watch the widening of that single, gray eye, and how it emphasizes the bags beneath. Watch the pallor of Merry's skin as lips purse out the syllables of their fascination.

Watch the way fabric slides against pale skin in the loose drape of guttered weariness.

''I'm just fine.''

"..."

They watch it all, for four seconds of contemplative silence, absorbing the answer spoken by Merry, and the answer glimpsed of Myunghon. Black lips part.

"I can tire," they suddenly say, echoing the revolutionary's earlier observation. Their hand shifts, the pad of that manicured thumb drawing a clipped, lacquered-gold nail up the line of Merry's jaw. "I can sweat. I can bleed." Up, to that point at the corner of their jaw, to that junction point where the ear lingers just above, and the pulse just beneath.

"I can get sick. I can suffer. I can cry." The pad of that thumb slips, pressed to Merry's pulse.

"I can lose."

Vivid greens lift until they lock with Merry's gray, for a brief moment.

"I can feel them. I can have them inflicted on me. Because I'm human. They're my right, and my curse."

The soft shift of Tsumugi beneath Merry sees their head listing towards the side as they speak. Thoughtful. Quiet. "I like you like this. Is this how you want to be? Or what you think you have to be?" The words are quiet, and just growing moreso with every one -- distant, like Tsumugi wasn't speaking to ''Merry'', but past them.

Until the lazy drift of their head draws suddenly inward. Until black lips press against Merry's ear, to whisper a question directly into it.

Lily-of-the-valley is very beautiful, but very deadly. But the poison isn't the only dangerous part of them.

"Are you suffocating, Myunghon?"

It's also how it seethes through the garden when left unchecked.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
If there is concern, someplace, it surely hides in the dullness of those eyes; perhaps, in the compartmentialisation of Myunghon Yeo, it is Myunghon Yeo who worries. Because a revolutionary's role is to become something greater than flesh and blood, of pale human worry; no, Merry's seething, strangling presence is there as they inevitably must become something greater than someone who can tire, who can get sick, suffer, cry.

Lose.

That's right. The only thing Merry can become is No Longer Human.

The moment in which they've drawn so close can be described as anything short of electric. Merry's excitement and intrigue is displayed rather evidently in that rigid, showman-like smile of theirs. Drinking in the charge of their bright green eyes, as they in turn are scrutinised. Four seconds of contemplative silence pass, and yet,

Here, Tsumugi speaks of their limitations too. How they are invariably trapped in the same trappings that each and every one of them are. They can feel... 'them'.

Who is 'them'? The sickness, the suffering, the tears? Or something far, far beyond, as they gaze distantly? Tsumugi's gold-laced finger explores the line of Merry's jaw, soft-featured and less defined than Tsumugi's own, and broken, violated, underneath those bandages. Scars run down there, hidden underneath the soft gauze.

And Tsumugi is human.

Myunghon is human, too, as Tsumugi has reminded them prior, no matter how much they act the funerary part, drifting from day to day as if a corpse propped up upon strings. It is Tsumugi's ''right'' -- and ''curse''.

"Ara," the non-human speaks, then. There's an almost trembling excitement in the way Tsumugi questions them -- the words growing quiet, more distant, as if they might, might just be perturbed by this disturbingly bold Thing that so badly wants to be Myunghon Yeo that they have to try to reach beyond the pale to speak out to someone that isn't quite listening and awake at present.

Even if they say ''I like you like this.''

It's in such contrast that they challenge them -- is this how they want to be... or who you think you have to be?

"How so... very fascinating. What if I did say 'yes'?" To which question? The thing that which is no longer human doesn't answer. "Am I not here, the embodiment of someone who embraces the best of all possible worlds? Someone who has attained the truest mark of freedom, cast from society's chains? And yet..."

It's warm, longing, the way they pull closer as Tsumugi's black lips part and whisper, so husky and delicate--

''Are you suffocating, Myunghon?''

The whisper reverberates through their body, a genuine frisson of surprise causing the Rumourmonger to quiver and cling harder-- the body language changes in but an instant, their hands shaky, trembling; there's a soft little noise, a little sob, and they very gently draw their head down to nestle against Tsumugi's shoulder again.

"M-mm," is all Myunghon can squeak out, fighting back tears.

Hope is but an illusion, and the garden is tended to.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
What is being human?

What is being inhuman?

What's the difference between a person and Homunculus? A person and a thing?

Tsumugi Kujaku came to their own answer on this matter years ago, and it set them on the path they walk today.

They came to it through sickness, and suffering, and loss.

It's all a matter of that unattainable goal: absolute freedom.

The best of all possible worlds.

And now they find someone trying to determine what that means, to them. Someone occupying a mask they need - a mask they attempt to embody - a mask that is, as Dazai proclaimed before them, No Longer Human.

Is that the way they can free themself of their own burden? Are they not, as they say, the pinnacle of freedom, thrown loose the yoke of society's fettering expectations?

Are they not?

Or are they just echoing the possibility of what could be, without understanding?

...

So-young cast this spell on Myunghon, such as it is, by invoking the supernatural, where they so clearly and effortlessly embody their mask. And now Tsumugi dispels it with an invocation of their own, four words long,

calling to the part of Myunghon Yeo still bound tight within reality's fetters.

Are they suffocating?

Like a flipped switch, firm confidence gives way to trembling insecurity. The Rumormonger of Cardboard Dragon - no, the proprietor of Cardboard Dragon - clings all the more tightly to Tsumugi. Freed from the strangling vines by way of the shackle, Myunghon gently buries their face against Tsumugi's shoulder.

And in response? Tsumugi stares forward towards those double doors Merry - Myunghon - so boldly strode through, where they flagrantly dismissed a man instead of panicking in the face of him. Where they sought what they wanted without hesitation. Their hand falls from the bandaged stretch of Myunghon's throat.

"I was told once, you can't escape society. Ignore it, and it would devour you." Their voice has once more resumed that normal tone, silken but deep and unerringly level. The arm that abandoned Myunghon's face now wraps around their body, joined by its opposite number.

"She said you had to feed it scraps of its expectations and trick it into thinking it was a feast, allowing you to enjoy the true bounty." In other words... "Show society a pleasing mask, and the world can be yours."

Play the fool, accept the fetters. And use them to drag the world behind you.

As they speak, Tsumugi suddenly falls backwards with Myunghon in their grip, as if they had decided to just... stop fighting gravity. They fall into the messy streams of unrolled fabrics arrayed across Tsumugi's workstation with a soft bounce of impact - a sea of colors and possibilities.

"Now I wonder: 'why bother even giving it scraps? If society is such a ravenous beast...'"

Green eyes fixate, lidded, on the ceiling above them.

"'... why not just kill it?'"

Scarlet silk pooling beneath their head bundles with the turn of their head, as they regard Myunghon against them.

"... Change is the privilege of someone who has opened their eyes to the truth. I like that side of you. I like this one, too. But are you satisfied with them?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Tsumugi Kujaku knew the truth of the Homunculus and the Ateliers two years ago. Were they here on more business-like grounds, that would have been the first thing out of Rumourmonger Merry's mouth. And yet, despite believing that they have no business in Myunghon's intimacy, they didn't simply reach for business either. How complicated the masks we wear! How clean the lines we believe they delineate (do they really? do they really?).

Do you really know, Myunghon-ssi?

There's a small hitch of breath as they listen, rapt still despite teetering on the edge of a breakdown. There is a 'she' in Tsumugi's life, once. Who could that be? Even dispelled of the notions of Rumourmonger Merry, their mind is still their own -- it's a tantalising little detail, a little morsel of someone who after sharing so much physical intimacy they know next to nothing about. They need it, even as Tsumugi recovers to that normal, unerringly level tone, as if they've now reversed their positions.

They were afforded a peek, and yet the door is now shut.

To ignore society is to let it devour you. Myorei Yukichi has arguably been a person who has had that tempered into them all their life. From the high-society, award-winning actress that is their mother, Suzie Park, to the corporate heavyweight that is their father, Seiichiro Yukichi, who chose to so throughly mask their Zainichi identity until it was all but erased. From the academic grinder, to university, to corporate life...

Myorei Yukichi has done nothing but feed society.

But the words of this unknown 'she' is intriguing -- something akin to how their own mother would view it, someone constantly exploiting others in society. A mother? A mentor? A lover? Even... a tormentor?

"... a pleasing mask alone only stimulates the beast's appetite," Myunghon quietly whimpers. "You have seen it firsthand in the month and change you have known me. People, like that horrid Ishiba, lay hands on me violently and-- and even my own mother describes me as someone she can act upon without consequence, before she attempts to kill me," breaking into a louder sniffle, that last part spoken with terror tearing their tone apart.

It's a very dire confession they've made.

Tsumugi falls backwards, though, and they are in freefall for a moment -- there's a quiet gasp from the white-haired Myunghon as they fall into bolts and ribbons and drapes of cloth.

They're very beautiful in this moment, Myunghon's entire mind echoes.

Especially as Tsumugi speaks of killing society.

Their gray eye gazes against Tsumugi against scarlet silk, as if it could represent the sea of blood that they'd spill to enact their change. And isn't that what, eventually, Rumourmonger Merry can accept? No one said the revolution would be bloodless. Especially if it is their own.

It's because it has to be their own.

"Perhaps I still wear the mask of Optimism," Myunghon murmurs. "'I'm afraid to say that it's a mania for insisting all is well when things are going badly,'" they quite Candide, as he speaks to Cacambo, at the cusp of truth.

"But..."

They lean forward, stroking gently at Tsumugi's cheek again, then at their hair, lovingly running their fingers through, then says: "The closer and closer I am drawn to you, the more I will understand..."

Then they plant a kiss on those beautiful black lips, letting themself surrender to them.

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-19: Are You Suffocating

2025-11-20T05:15:32Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: Are You Suffocating''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Tsumugi Kujaku *'''Where:''' Peacock Silk, Shimokitazawa *'''OOC Date:''' November 19, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 13, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Rumourmonger Merry intrudes upon Tsumugi Kujaku and takes no for an answer, finding a different side to the tailor they haven't yet before. As the seething, strangling hope within the garden grows, however, Tsumugi dispels the notion with but a simple question.''..."

*'''Log: Are You Suffocating'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Tsumugi Kujaku]]
*'''Where:''' Peacock Silk, Shimokitazawa
*'''OOC Date:''' November 19, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 13, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Rumourmonger Merry intrudes upon Tsumugi Kujaku and takes no for an answer, finding a different side to the tailor they haven't yet before. As the seething, strangling hope within the garden grows, however, Tsumugi dispels the notion with but a simple question.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon Yeo has found themself up on Tsumugi Kujaku's lap.

*record scratch*

Yyyyyes, that's them right there! How did they get into this situation, you might ask?

Well, So-young somewhat goaded them into masking into Merry when they were waiting at a cafe just before this, and that was how they ended up swanning right into the front entrance of the Peacock Silk, finding the tailor present, and then, without even so much as a greeting or warning, barged right into the middle of whatever it is they were doing, and rather rudely just pulled themself in and cattishly planted themself right ontop of their lap, whether or not it was convenient.

They're dressed not in Tsumugi's designs, but Mei Arisugawa's -- the chocolate ruffle-blouse, the black brooch ribbon tie, the white A-line inverted pleat skirt, the leggings, the white Mary Janes... the white coat slung over their shoulders. They've got their lily-of-the-valley fragrance worn again today.

And now they're making themself Tsumugi's problem.
Tsumugi Kujaku has arrived from Historia: The White Chronicle.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
Tsumugi Kujaku has been away.

It started maybe a week ago; though, given how irregular their schedule is, and how often they just elect not to be part of a given conversation or activity at any point in time, for any length in time, how long ago it ''actually'' started is very much an open question. Regardless: what matters is that for some reason, the young tailor of Peacock Silk just seemed to disappear. They stopped taking orders; they stopped with their various... side jobs...; they stopped replying to texts, dms, or answering or returning phonecalls for the truly oldest of schools;

They simply became a ghost, for that maybe-a-week, before suddenly their commissions reopened and they started returning calls or answering whatever their latest texts and dms were (and literally no others) as if the past maybe-a-week had never even happened.

The rare regulars at Peacock Silk have gotten used to this by now; the variety of services that they provide are simply too valuable.

But it does make ''some'' of them rather anxious to pick up the work when the opportunity arises.

Which leads to--

NOW

Where the double doors of Peacock Silk boom wide open with the sight of--

--not a rumormonger?!--

but an impatient-looking, middle-aged business man, marching straight towards Tsumugi Kujaku's atelier.

"Kujaku! I know you're here -- I have an urgent matter I need to--"

He gets about halfway towards said atelier before he catches sight of--

--a rumormonger?!--

dressed in a chocolate ruffle-blouse, a black brooch ribbon tie, a white A-line inverted pleat skirt, leggings and Mary Janes, the sleeves of their coat whipping past his face like streamers in the wind as Myunghon Yeo catches up past him and overtakes him, on their way to--

*record scratch*

-- planting themself right on Tsumugi Kujaku's lap?!

Yes; Tsumugi Kujaku is here, seated on their work station. Dressed in a black suit (and, it seems, little else besides, beyond the canny glimpse of a gold binder before the precarious plunge of that suit is buttoned up), matching slacks and polished oxfords that have been modified to be gold-toed, with lips a matching shade to go with the deep and aggressive black of their eyeliner and shadow, they make for a silhouette shadow that nigh-perfectly frames Myunghon's ''slightly'' more colorful figure as they suddenly find themself with a lapful of the rumormonger.

Unexpected. Do they blink?

--do they look a little paler than usual--?

Neither questions with answers in the immediate sense as Myunghon finds a black clad arm wrapping 'round them, from shoulder to collar bone, to draw them closer against their new perch.

"It'll wait," is all they say to the increasingly flustered-looking man.

He starts to bluster out a, "But it's ''been'' waiting--"

Before Tsumugi, perching their chin on Myunghon's shoulder, looks at him with that steady, placid stare.

"Unless you want to discuss your business now?" they suggest, simply. The man hesitates visibly.

And then just throws his hands into the air and mutters out all sorts of frustrated noises as he leaves Peacock Silk angry.

Not for the first time.

All this leaves Myunghon in Tsumugi's lap. And now in their grasp. Their gaze is still focused forward, towards the space that man once occupied. Their gaze almost... off somewhere else?

"You made yourself comfortable," is their first observation for Myunghon, regardless of anything else.

They sound.

''Fascinated''.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"It ''will'' wait," Merry adds in a practiced business tone to the middle-aged businessman. For a moment in time, the funerary body is evoking the dead spirit of Myorei Yukichi telling someone that their issue ''isn't'' important enough to be a meeting, it will be an e-mail they will check on their own time, in concert with Tsumugi's statement of fact. They drape one of their arms carefully (it does hurt) around the tailor's black suit, a rather dangerous gleam in their one gray eye as they seem terribly at ease at their sudden newfound role as armcandy. Lapcandy? (Why do they have nothing on underneath except their binder. That gold binder is really cute--)

Then there is silence, as the man disappears.

"Hmmm. And now it's just us," Merry remarks in turn as a quiet smile creeps into their face, leaning their head forward to rest against where Tsumugi's chin had roosted on their shoulder.

"You look rather wan. Has your disappearance afflicted you?"

They trail a long finger up Tsumugi's cheek, softly, so as to not smear against any of that beautiful eyeliner or mascara. It's all very attractive, after all. "But now I am here too. And you, in turn, can make me wait," comes the almost-pleased observation of Rumourmonger Merry, almost in contrast with what they said last time.

"It would not be the first time."

It's said almost playfully, not annoyed or demanding, as if it were just an observation of fact. This isn't the sobbing, drowning Myunghon of their last few encounters; this is the mask Myunghon wears, the one that bears such a Hope that would seethe and strangle all other sentiments in its spread.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
''You look rather wan. Has your disappearance afflicted you?''

They sound ''fascinated'', you see...

"Ara."

... because this is ''fascinating''.

The way Tsumugi so casually and brazenly holds Myunghon close -- it's something they would do normally, of course, but right now? Right now it's an improvisational calculation made in a moment of rare, sublime, uncertainty. Something unexpected happened; and now Tsumugi wants to test it. They're certain that normally such a situation - drawn so intimately close, in a public setting, with company - would be mortifying for Myunghon Yeo. They can imagine a whole host of responses from the proprietor of the Cardboard Dragon.

None of them are this.

And yet... it's not unfamiliar either, is it? Tsumugi's seen glimpses of this before. This fascinating... mask? ... Myunghon wears.

But never like this. So how could they help but prod?

Myunghon is right, of course: 'wan' is the most appropriate way to describe how Tsumugi looks right now, subtle and easily missed with their demeanor, but there. But at the moment, Tsumugi's response is just that simple 'ara' as green eyes finally drift back towards Myunghon, catching only glimpses of them in the periphery of their vision thanks to their respective positions.

"Are you worried about me?"

The question comes and goes; a finger draws up towards the high and prominent curve of Tsumugi's cheekbone. They're here. Tsumugi can make them wait. That voice, so close, tickles at their ear.

Playful. Confident. Brazen even, perhaps. It pairs well with that floral scent, evoking memories of the first pair of times they met.

They could make them wait, couldn't they? They've done so before; they likely will again. Or--

They don't provide a verbal answer; not yet. Maybe they ''are'' going to make Myunghon wait again. And yet body language, too, is a language, isn't it? The way they shift, head lifting and pulling away to urge Rumormonger Merry's comfortable perch up and off; the way their hand at their collar lifts, arm crooked at the elbow, until they can capture Myunghon's chin.

The way they tilt their own head until they can look at the rumormonger eye-to-eye, or as close as one can get in their relative situations, to watch them with an expression writ with pension. Rapt.

They could ask what caused this sudden change in attitude in Myunghon. It'd be the easy way; and they might still yet. But for right now, Tsumugi settles for the thing that they're most curious about, as they inspect Merry's pale, bandaged features.

"How do you feel?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
For those who've seen Myunghon in supernatural spaces, the difference is quite stark -- gone is the meek, soft, gentle proprietor of the Cardboard Dragon who, even today, never truly feels comfortable on the streets, looking around every corner and feeling as if a shadow is creeping on them, a response built from the trauma both emotional and physical they've endured in just the past few months.

In its place is the bold, vivacious, dangerous leader of the Cardboard Dragon group who wrested Hirasaka's safety back from the hands of Kaneshiro. Who saved Taro Nakata from the clutches of the Homunculus with the others. But it is true, glimpses of it have peeked out before...

"Hmmm. Yes," answers Myunghon -- Merry -- rather succinctly, not in that typical gentle way of theirs, but as if they've decided worry for Tsumugi is also something they'd rather grasp into their hands rather than discard. "You are an enigma, after all. You carry yourself so splendidly, that even your disappearances cannot help but intrigue... and yet..."

The smile creeps to dangerous territory, their gray eye widening and looking a bit duller, that gaze seemingly drinking in that body language, every moment of their entire time together.

"You can tire, too. That which rests under so many layers of masks that we both wear..."

As Tsumugi adjusts themself, Merry follows suit slowly, though they don't resist one bit when the tailor brings their hand to lift their chin up. Merry themself leans themself so close their noses could touch. The lily-of-the-valley. A poisonous flower. A poisonous hope. Its meaning in the language of flowers is rote -- purity, joy, love, sincerity... and yet it isn't without danger underneath. Perhaps danger attracts danger.

"How could I not find that fascinating? As you yourself have found me fascinating this last month."

But Tsumugi's not the only one wan -- as powerful as the facade the Rumourmonger is presenting, they're shattered right now; the bag underneath their eye is heavier than normal, and they, too, are paler than their usual. The way their clothes drape against them feel a little less lively, like they don't have the energy to be as fastidious with their image as usual. Behind that mask that's presenting itself so powerfully...

The Myunghon Tsumugi's become intimately is screaming even louder underneath.

"I'm just fine," answers Merry in contrast.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
''So your Hope seethes throughout a garden, strangling out every other sentiment in its spread?''

''Mm. I like that. I hope I can see it with my own eyes some day.''

The words Tsumugi gave Myunghon the day they first truly talked ring no more clearly than they do at this moment. The bold leader of Cardboard Dragon drapes on the tailor this day; the roots of their inspiring confidence wind throughout the soil that is Myunghon Yeo, musing as to the nature of Tsumugi's current, pallid state not out of concern, but rather interest.

The vines stretch out beautifully, musing on the mystery that is Tsumugi Kujaku. How they carry themself. How they intrigue

How even they can be weak too.

It's a beautiful thing, the way Rumormonger Merry flowers in Myunghon's proverbial soil.

'Return to happiness'. It's a rather fitting meaning for a poisonous flower, Tsumugi thinks in this moment.

What - after all - could be more poisonous than that smile on the rumormonger's lips?

Merry leans in towards their touch. Nose dares to just barely bump nose, until the slightest shift brings the very tip of Tsumugi's brushing Merry's in a practical phantom touch. The tailor says nothing to the rumormonger's fascination in the immediate. Those bright, intense green eyes just watch them. Watch the widening of that single, gray eye, and how it emphasizes the bags beneath. Watch the pallor of Merry's skin as lips purse out the syllables of their fascination.

Watch the way fabric slides against pale skin in the loose drape of guttered weariness.

''I'm just fine.''

"..."

They watch it all, for four seconds of contemplative silence, absorbing the answer spoken by Merry, and the answer glimpsed of Myunghon. Black lips part.

"I can tire," they suddenly say, echoing the revolutionary's earlier observation. Their hand shifts, the pad of that manicured thumb drawing a clipped, lacquered-gold nail up the line of Merry's jaw. "I can sweat. I can bleed." Up, to that point at the corner of their jaw, to that junction point where the ear lingers just above, and the pulse just beneath.

"I can get sick. I can suffer. I can cry." The pad of that thumb slips, pressed to Merry's pulse.

"I can lose."

Vivid greens lift until they lock with Merry's gray, for a brief moment.

"I can feel them. I can have them inflicted on me. Because I'm human. They're my right, and my curse."

The soft shift of Tsumugi beneath Merry sees their head listing towards the side as they speak. Thoughtful. Quiet. "I like you like this. Is this how you want to be? Or what you think you have to be?" The words are quiet, and just growing moreso with every one -- distant, like Tsumugi wasn't speaking to ''Merry'', but past them.

Until the lazy drift of their head draws suddenly inward. Until black lips press against Merry's ear, to whisper a question directly into it.

Lily-of-the-valley is very beautiful, but very deadly. But the poison isn't the only dangerous part of them.

"Are you suffocating, Myunghon?"

It's also how it seethes through the garden when left unchecked.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
If there is concern, someplace, it surely hides in the dullness of those eyes; perhaps, in the compartmentialisation of Myunghon Yeo, it is Myunghon Yeo who worries. Because a revolutionary's role is to become something greater than flesh and blood, of pale human worry; no, Merry's seething, strangling presence is there as they inevitably must become something greater than someone who can tire, who can get sick, suffer, cry.

Lose.

That's right. The only thing Merry can become is No Longer Human.

The moment in which they've drawn so close can be described as anything short of electric. Merry's excitement and intrigue is displayed rather evidently in that rigid, showman-like smile of theirs. Drinking in the charge of their bright green eyes, as they in turn are scrutinised. Four seconds of contemplative silence pass, and yet,

Here, Tsumugi speaks of their limitations too. How they are invariably trapped in the same trappings that each and every one of them are. They can feel... 'them'.

Who is 'them'? The sickness, the suffering, the tears? Or something far, far beyond, as they gaze distantly? Tsumugi's gold-laced finger explores the line of Merry's jaw, soft-featured and less defined than Tsumugi's own, and broken, violated, underneath those bandages. Scars run down there, hidden underneath the soft gauze.

And Tsumugi is human.

Myunghon is human, too, as Tsumugi has reminded them prior, no matter how much they act the funerary part, drifting from day to day as if a corpse propped up upon strings. It is Tsumugi's ''right'' -- and ''curse''.

"Ara," the non-human speaks, then. There's an almost trembling excitement in the way Tsumugi questions them -- the words growing quiet, more distant, as if they might, might just be perturbed by this disturbingly bold Thing that so badly wants to be Myunghon Yeo that they have to try to reach beyond the pale to speak out to someone that isn't quite listening and awake at present.

Even if they say ''I like you like this.''

It's in such contrast that they challenge them -- is this how they want to be... or who you think you have to be?

"How so... very fascinating. What if I did say 'yes'?" To which question? The thing that which is no longer human doesn't answer. "Am I not here, the embodiment of someone who embraces the best of all possible worlds? Someone who has attained the truest mark of freedom, cast from society's chains? And yet..."

It's warm, longing, the way they pull closer as Tsumugi's black lips part and whisper, so husky and delicate--

''Are you suffocating, Myunghon?''

The whisper reverberates through their body, a genuine frisson of surprise causing the Rumourmonger to quiver and cling harder-- the body language changes in but an instant, their hands shaky, trembling; there's a soft little noise, a little sob, and they very gently draw their head down to nestle against Tsumugi's shoulder again.

"M-mm," is all Myunghon can squeak out, fighting back tears.

Hope is but an illusion, and the garden is tended to.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
<poem>
What is being human?

What is being inhuman?

What's the difference between a person and Homunculus? A person and a thing?

Tsumugi Kujaku came to their own answer on this matter years ago, and it set them on the path they walk today.

They came to it through sickness, and suffering, and loss.

It's all a matter of that unattainable goal: absolute freedom.

The best of all possible worlds.

And now they find someone trying to determine what that means, to them. Someone occupying a mask they need - a mask they attempt to embody - a mask that is, as Dazai proclaimed before them, No Longer Human.

Is that the way they can free themself of their own burden? Are they not, as they say, the pinnacle of freedom, thrown loose the yoke of society's fettering expectations?

Are they not?

Or are they just echoing the possibility of what could be, without understanding?

...

So-young cast this spell on Myunghon, such as it is, by invoking the supernatural, where they so clearly and effortlessly embody their mask. And now Tsumugi dispels it with an invocation of their own, four words long,

calling to the part of Myunghon Yeo still bound tight within reality's fetters.

Are they suffocating?

Like a flipped switch, firm confidence gives way to trembling insecurity. The Rumormonger of Cardboard Dragon - no, the proprietor of Cardboard Dragon - clings all the more tightly to Tsumugi. Freed from the strangling vines by way of the shackle, Myunghon gently buries their face against Tsumugi's shoulder.

And in response? Tsumugi stares forward towards those double doors Merry - Myunghon - so boldly strode through, where they flagrantly dismissed a man instead of panicking in the face of him. Where they sought what they wanted without hesitation. Their hand falls from the bandaged stretch of Myunghon's throat.

"I was told once, you can't escape society. Ignore it, and it would devour you." Their voice has once more resumed that normal tone, silken but deep and unerringly level. The arm that abandoned Myunghon's face now wraps around their body, joined by its opposite number.

"She said you had to feed it scraps of its expectations and trick it into thinking it was a feast, allowing you to enjoy the true bounty." In other words... "Show society a pleasing mask, and the world can be yours."

Play the fool, accept the fetters. And use them to drag the world behind you.

As they speak, Tsumugi suddenly falls backwards with Myunghon in their grip, as if they had decided to just... stop fighting gravity. They fall into the messy streams of unrolled fabrics arrayed across Tsumugi's workstation with a soft bounce of impact - a sea of colors and possibilities.

"Now I wonder: 'why bother even giving it scraps? If society is such a ravenous beast...'"

Green eyes fixate, lidded, on the ceiling above them.

"'... why not just kill it?'"

Scarlet silk pooling beneath their head bundles with the turn of their head, as they regard Myunghon against them.

"... Change is the privilege of someone who has opened their eyes to the truth. I like that side of you. I like this one, too. But are you satisfied with them?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Tsumugi Kujaku knew the truth of the Homunculus and the Ateliers two years ago. Were they here on more business-like grounds, that would have been the first thing out of Rumourmonger Merry's mouth. And yet, despite believing that they have no business in Myunghon's intimacy, they didn't simply reach for business either. How complicated the masks we wear! How clean the lines we believe they delineate (do they really? do they really?).

Do you really know, Myunghon-ssi?

There's a small hitch of breath as they listen, rapt still despite teetering on the edge of a breakdown. There is a 'she' in Tsumugi's life, once. Who could that be? Even dispelled of the notions of Rumourmonger Merry, their mind is still their own -- it's a tantalising little detail, a little morsel of someone who after sharing so much physical intimacy they know next to nothing about. They need it, even as Tsumugi recovers to that normal, unerringly level tone, as if they've now reversed their positions.

They were afforded a peek, and yet the door is now shut.

To ignore society is to let it devour you. Myorei Yukichi has arguably been a person who has had that tempered into them all their life. From the high-society, award-winning actress that is their mother, Suzie Park, to the corporate heavyweight that is their father, Seiichiro Yukichi, who chose to so throughly mask their Zainichi identity until it was all but erased. From the academic grinder, to university, to corporate life...

Myorei Yukichi has done nothing but feed society.

But the words of this unknown 'she' is intriguing -- something akin to how their own mother would view it, someone constantly exploiting others in society. A mother? A mentor? A lover? Even... a tormentor?

"... a pleasing mask alone only stimulates the beast's appetite," Myunghon quietly whimpers. "You have seen it firsthand in the month and change you have known me. People, like that horrid Ishiba, lay hands on me violently and-- and even my own mother describes me as someone she can act upon without consequence, before she attempts to kill me," breaking into a louder sniffle, that last part spoken with terror tearing their tone apart.

It's a very dire confession they've made.

Tsumugi falls backwards, though, and they are in freefall for a moment -- there's a quiet gasp from the white-haired Myunghon as they fall into bolts and ribbons and drapes of cloth.

They're very beautiful in this moment, Myunghon's entire mind echoes.

Especially as Tsumugi speaks of killing society.

Their gray eye gazes against Tsumugi against scarlet silk, as if it could represent the sea of blood that they'd spill to enact their change. And isn't that what, eventually, Rumourmonger Merry can accept? No one said the revolution would be bloodless. Especially if it is their own.

It's because it has to be their own.

"Perhaps I still wear the mask of Optimism," Myunghon murmurs. "'I'm afraid to say that it's a mania for insisting all is well when things are going badly,'" they quite Candide, as he speaks to Cacambo, at the cusp of truth.

"But..."

They lean forward, stroking gently at Tsumugi's cheek again, then at their hair, lovingly running their fingers through, then says: "The closer and closer I am drawn to you, the more I will understand..."

Then they plant a kiss on those beautiful black lips, letting themself surrender to them.

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-18: Boys II Snailz

2025-11-19T04:41:08Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: Boys II Snailz''' *'''Cast:''' Ryuzaki Kurama, Kurou Ryouhara *'''Where:''' *'''OOC Date:''' November 18, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 12, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Ryuzaki chances upon an encounter with Kurou Ryouhara and a bond is formed over snail facts.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed. <poem> Ruzica is in Sumaru City again... she really needs to come visit the Kuzunoha Detective Agency, where it appears that a number of the rumour..."

*'''Log: Boys II Snailz'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Ryuzaki Kurama]], [[Kurou Ryouhara]]
*'''Where:'''
*'''OOC Date:''' November 18, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 12, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Ryuzaki chances upon an encounter with Kurou Ryouhara and a bond is formed over snail facts.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ruzica is in Sumaru City again... she really needs to come visit the Kuzunoha Detective Agency, where it appears that a number of the rumours around rumour demons and hunting them are centred around. She has some time, however, and the park looks particularly nice. And...

He feels like being Ryuzaki today, even though this is technically Ruzica's business. And thus, it's Ryuzaki Kurama that is spending some time in Aoba Park. He's a small boy at 156cm, with a very slight build. He's wearing a black denim jacket with a white undershirt, with black skinny denim jeans as well, along with a black baker's boy casquette with a fat chicken pin.

He also has big, cold golden eyes peeking out from underneath his jet-black bangs.

And currently he's...

....

He's spent the last fifteen minutes gazing at a particularly wonderful and colourful snail perched ontop of a leaf in one part of the park, absolutely transfixed at this beautiful specimen.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>
Aoba Park is filled with wonders. There's a number of different flowering plants kept here on purpose, and a number of different weeds that, if you're quick, you can enjoy, observe -- maybe even ''collect'' -- before the gardeners weed them. There's all manner of insects, some considered pets, some consider pollinators, and then there are, of course...

... snails. Kurou stops, seeing the colorful shell before he seeds the monochrome boy in a charming hat. Snails are not a specimen that require stealth, but Kurou never does anything by halves. He approaches in utter silence beside Ryuzaki, and one pair of golden eyes becomes four.

Several minutes could well pass like this, with nothing but Kurou's eyes moving to trail after that snail's slow, slimy path.

But only a few do before Kurou pulls out his phone with its cracked screen, trying to get a connection to hold so he can identify exactly what kind of snail this creature is.

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki does seem so entranced by the snail that he doesn't immediately react to someone else joining in on their snail-watching. It just seems... correct, whoever this person is, like they understand, on some level beyond speech or gesture, that they have a similar fascination with the snail that's currently just very slowly chowing down on the leaf they're on.

"... this is a kobeso-maimai," Ryuzaki softly says, barely above sotto voce. "Or a satsuma myomphala. But it's a lot more colourful than others of the same kind..."

As if in response, Ryuzaki pulls out a rather old manual camera, with a long lens in front of it. It looks weathered and worn, but well-cared for, a tool that could date back from the 70s. He spends some time turning the lens and lining up his shot, and then... snap!

After he's content taking his pictures, he finally quietly turns toward Kurou, expressionless and yet a little shy in body language. "... do you... like snails too?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>
Kurou pauses in his failed attempts at finding the right keywords when fate provides the answer. There is no surprise in realizing someone else was already here, or for how long. It seems correct because it is correct.

"Kobeso-maimai," he repeats, his voice matching Ryuzaki's delicate volume while his eyes return to the snail. Only from the periphery does he see how Ryuzaki captures the snail's likeness in photography, but he only needs the periphery to know how old fashioned, and thus well maintained, his tool of the trade must be.

But eyes open him get a gentle shift in his gaze to meet them.

"... Yes. Invertebrates are... overlooked. But I do not know a lot about them."

Not the way Ryuzaki seems to.

"Why is this one so vivid...?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Why is this one so vivid, when others are less so?

"I'm... not sure," Ryuzaki does admit, knowing that shells are an organic thing that has a large degree of variance between snail species, and yet this one seems so vivid and unusual it feels like it's in defiance of the other kobeso-maimai. "They each grow their shells from within them... maybe... it's a mask from within that they wear, to express something to the world."

They shift very gently, still in that effortless squatting pose of theirs, and takes another shot.

Their eyes meet. Ryuzaki's eyes feel cold, inquisitive -- some could say unsettling and piercing. They're in strong contrast to the darkness in his hair. Yet, there's something... gentle, curious, soft inside of them too. Ryuzaki seems to have taken some interest in Kurou in turn, perhaps naturally drawn to the similarity in their irises.

"Do you want... to know more about snails?" A pause. "I'm Ryuzaki Kurama..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>
So it is ultimately a mystery, even to one who knows snails... Kurou's pupils are a little bigger as he looks back at satsuma myomphala. Something unique for its kind.

"I wonder if it is lonely," he says. Perhaps it is a foolish question. This has nothing to do with knowledge of snails as a whole.

But they meet eyes, and where Ryuzaki's are cold, Kurou's have a strange emptiness to them. His gaze is relentless in its way, and unwavering, but in the same way the void simply is without effort. Yet despite there, where Kurou's freckled face does not offer much in the way of communication, there is still the smallest glimmer of life that would differentiate him from a corpse.

"... Kurou Ryouhara," Kurou offers in kind. And then, without blinking:

"Yes."

</poem>
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
"... it might be, but..."

Ryuzaki pauses to contemplate snail for another full minute, as it seemingly just goes about with leaf-chowing. Perhaps there is a similarity, he finds, in how lonely people can be and yet they continue to chow down on burger. That's why they pursue... the burger, in pursuit of that contradiction.

"It's... with us, today."

They look forlorn for a moment, but there was something within Kurou's gaze he finds appealing. That emptiness, as if he was being drawn into a void, the way Ryuzaki feels like both their eyes can express more than they could ever with their faces. There's a little shine in there, a little glimmer of life.

They're both people that can be easily written off as expressionless, phlegmatic, distant... but there's something familiar there.

"Kurou Ryouhara..." Ryuzaki whispers, like he's obtained something rather precious today.

"The kobeso-maimai is named for their tiny 'belly button', the oheso... here..." Ryuzaki points out, at the hole that forms at the backside of its shell spiral. "They can stretch really far out... snails feel through their shells. Despite it looking like a protective organ, they can't survive without it... a terrestrial mollusc such as this one breathes through gills known as the ctendia because of their comb-like shape--"

</poem>
/_!_\ Boys Are Learning About Snails, Please Wait Warmly... /_!_\

<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>
It might be lonely, but... they watch, as the snail eats. The snail lives. It is lonely, but it is here, and so are they. A quiet, profound moment that Kurou experiences without impatience and without urgency.

He nods, very slowly, with Ryuzaki's conclusion. Today is different.

Maybe that's life, too. One day can be different. So you eat. And you live. And maybe you find that day.

And today, Kurou and Ryuzaki have met. Kurou's head tilts, only slightly, like anything more might frighten a snail... but snails are much more stalwart than that. Ryuzaki has a demeanor familiar to his own... but there's mysteries there, too. Like a vivid snail shell inside, even if the outside is monochrome.

As Ryuzaki begins to explain, Kurou's eyes make a subtle shift. The glimmer is a little brighter, and his attention more intense. Every now and then, he looks where Ryuzaki leads, and he repeats the unfamiliar terms like "Oheso..." and, "Ctendia..." so he can better etch them into his memory.

There is so much to know about snails. A whole entire world for snails he did not fully appreciate until today...

Maybe that is the most precious knowledge of all.

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Some time passes as Ryuzaki explains snail facts. He's still fairly stolid about it, and doesn't really hurry at all as he moves from one fact to another as if he were recalling it from a database of sorts, but... it's nice, like this. A lot of people usually get exasperated and make motions like they have to go when it turns out Ryuzaki is infodumping. He doesn't get that feeling here.

But eventually, the snail moves on too. "Oh... ...bye bye, wonderful snail," as it moves a little deeper into the tree.

Ryuzaki quietly rises to his not terribly impressive height, placing his hands behind his back and shifting quietly. He does wonder what mysteries Kurou holds behind those eyes that convey the void -- and yet, also, that glimmer in contrast against the void, like his very being holds an appealing contradiction in its entirety.

"Thank you for... listening to snail facts," Ryuzaki admits, just the slightest bit more bashful with that body language. "Some people... don't seem to like it."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>
To get such a feeling here would be an inaccuracy. Kurou is a sponge, and his main concern is that he will not be spongy ''enough'' to absorb everything Ryuzaki is explaining. His voice is nice, too. Quiet, and one that speaks with fondness for the subject. The circumstances are not built for boredom.

But... oh. Even at a snail's pace, their specimen is able to move on, away from them into the brush. Kurou's eyes widen a fraction, and then his expression drops. It has not changed from its default state, but the sudden shift might approximate something like passing disappointment.

Alas, the snail, too, must decide its fate. Kurou lifts his hand to wave.

Goodbye, snail...

Kurou waits a moment moment, as if there were anything to see in the darkness of the brush, and then rises himself. He stands taller by almost fifteen centimeters... though he may have seen about the same size, or even smaller, when he was crouched to observe.

"Thank you for sharing your knowledge." Kurou is silent when Ryuzaki seems shier. People don't seem to...? "... How strange," he says with a blink. Why wouldn't... people like it...??

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki is perhaps even more diminuitive, the way he puts his hands behind his back, a gesture that naturally has his shoulders shrinking forward. His golden eyes look upwards to Kurou, no less inquisitive and curious than before. "... I was happy to," he briefly expresses, tone not any more particularly expressive -- but there's the faint impression like it was a pleasurable experience.

Why would people not like it?

"I don't... fully understand myself. Humans are..." Ryuzaki pauses, as he realises that he's phrased things awkwardly. He's made his bed, though, so he works through it, something coming out a little more forlornly than before: "... ... a lot of times, when they smile, they're hiding displeasure behind it."

A pause, and as if not willing to leave it on that down note, they add: "... but... I will come to understand it."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>
It is good to know Ryuzaki did not end up troubled to spend so much time sharing knowledge with Kurou... He did not realize how much had passed until the snail had left their line of sight. They are not particularly swift animals. But that's the trick... by moving so slowly, one can obscure they are moving at all.

Invertebrates are overlooked, he said himself, but even after the conversation he is finding more to appreciate about the snail. No. ''Because'' of it?

Ryuzaki admits to not understanding people, and Kurou's gaze dips thoughtfully. "... I see. I never realized..." But it's an easy truth to see now that it's been pointed out. Smiles to hide other emotions... "That seems like a waste of a smile."

Kurou looks back up. "Then... I wish you luck, in understanding more of the world. But know I do not have any displeasure about snails to hide."

That is all he can truly confirm on the matter.

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
It's a daily struggle, to understand what things are being said that people mean, and what words actually mean the opposite. Ryuzaki hasn't cracked the secret code yet, but one must exist. "It is..." he finds himself agreeing with Kurou rather readily, on wasted smiles.

But somehow, with Kurou, he feels some kind of certainty that what Kurou says is what he means. ... there are few people that he feels this way with, and especially after just meeting him. What is it about this other boy?

"... would you mind if we... traded phone numbers?" Ryuzaki does request, pulling out an old phone of his own. The screen isn't cracked, but it isn't a smartphone -- it's a few years back easily.

There's another cute, fat chicken soft keychain on it.

"I had a good time... today, watching snails, Kurou Ryouhara."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
<poem>
Kurou has largely navigated this deeply confusing world by simply plowing ahead with every misunderstanding. There may be a blessing in ignorance to that... But Ryuzaki... he says what he means, upfront, and with little need for interpretation. And he does not waste smiles.

With the question, Kurou gets his phone back. It may not have helped him with snails, but this is a task it is better suited for. Another older tool... Yet one that, too, serves its function.

"I do not mind," he says, getting his number to display for Ryuzaki to take.

A chicken keychain is another important function, Kurou thinks: the same kind of function putting smiley-faced food stickers on his better test scores serves.

"As did I, Ryuzaki Kurama. I want to remember everything you said about them."

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-18: Realms of Possibility

2025-11-19T04:38:27Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: Realms of Possibility''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, So-young Park *'''Where:''' A Cafe in Shimokitazawa *'''OOC Date:''' November 18, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 12, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Myunghon invites So-young to a cafe in Shimokitazawa to calm their nerves following some scary few last couple of days.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> Myunghon has had a kind of terrifying couple of days, in no particular because there was..."

*'''Log: Realms of Possibility'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[So-young Park]]
*'''Where:''' A Cafe in Shimokitazawa
*'''OOC Date:''' November 18, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 12, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Myunghon invites So-young to a cafe in Shimokitazawa to calm their nerves following some scary few last couple of days.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon has had a kind of terrifying couple of days, in no particular because there was a particularly terrifying customer to the Cardboard Dragon!! Frazzled and yet still with a terribly busy schedule ahead of them still, they sent a text to So-young:

> someone really scary was here...
> can we meet somewhere, i'll treat

For one reason or another, they've ended up agreeing to meet in Shimokita. It's trendy, it's busy, it's the kind of counterculture that's blossomed in response to growing gentrification in Shibuya and Harajuku. It's just a stone's throw away from Daikanyama, and has a similar heart. Myunghon is in their chocolate-coloured ruffle-blouse today, with a black brooch bow tie and one of their A-line inverted pleats and legging combos. It's become a bit more common as of late, hasn't it? It' the white coat today too, not the black one.

They have the cute white-leather messenger bag with them, and looks exhausted as they lean on a bollard outside of the Shimokita train station.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "You know, you look like I should be treating you, not the other way around," So-young notes as she walks up at a brisk pace. Evidently she's come almost straight from work, but has at least changed into a sleeveless blouse and a pair of light-coloured wide-leg trousers in an attempt to ward off the summer heat, sunglasses perched in her hair. Despite the slight huff to her words, it's not directed at Myunghon so much as the world in general; she's been busy the last couple of days, preparing for the return of her afternoon concerts as the end of August approaches.

('The end of summer', she would instead insist for reasons of Art. She's already got the theme down for her concert on the first of September - titled '8.32' and full of maudlin-but-upbeat arrangements that roll around the idea of the ephemerality of summer and 'the memories we made'. She's feeling herself a whole lot right now.)

There is some significant level of concern in her gaze, though, because she's reasonably aware of the amount of different things Myunghon has faced down at this point. She's seen Myunghon stand up, with impeccable confidence and politeness, to a rampaging yakuza. So if Myunghon is calling something just plain 'scary', she can't help but be curious and worried in equal measure.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon's definitely not standing up straight right now, more receded into their shoulders with the skittishness of someone who hates being as tall as they are. Their mode of dress is... familiar, but also gives them a lot of conflicting feelings that aren't simple to untangle. Precious clothes made by someone dear who isn't here anymore. But a betrayal, in some ways.

"... good afternoon, nuna," Myunghon does answer as So-young pulls up. The sunglasses are a good look on her. Does she ever actually put them on? It feels almost more natural resting on her hair. "Um--" they glance around. "Well, I have a... date... later on, but I had a lot of spare time, so I thought this would be nice too. I just didn't want to be home for now. That man was..."

This does, in itself, feel like a betrayal of the Cardboard Dragon too. "Are you familiar with the cafes around here?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young is absolutely wearing them like that for fashion's sake more than anything else, but she's also put extensive mirror practice into making sure she can artfully drop them into place with a firm nod of her head. It's all about the style. She's still a little struck how effortlessly Myunghon can change up their look all of a sudden, because for all her wild freedom So-young is something of a creature of habit, or at least a creature of 'knowing what she likes to wear and sticking to it'.

Her eyebrows rocket up at the word 'date', as expected, though she files that away as the second topic to broach after she's done with the first. "I wouldn't say familiar, exactly," she muses as she motions to head down one of the little streets, "But I do tend to be in the region a fair bit just to poke around the music stores, and after checking out the Peacock Silk. To be honest, I'll just pick whichever looks good on a whim," she grins with an assured air. "It hasn't failed me all that often."

So-young's brow furrows as she tries to mentally sum up 'that man'. "... was it that cop again?" she asks with a dangerous edge to her voice and a certain degree of steel in her gaze.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Don't worry, So-young, this is a new development too after a certain someone pointed out that Myunghon was more dead than alive, the way they only wear the same black and white suit like they're ready for their funerary rites. It's one step out, but then without a capability to understand where the next step should be. Progress and yet with it, utter confusion.

"Oh, you have been, after all?" Myunghon wasn't certain if So-young had frequented the Peacock Silk in the end. "The people there are really... intriguing, aren't they?" it almost sounds rosy and... smitten, for a moment. It's like Myunghon has just lost a bit of their tired adult edge and back to something like a wide-eyed teen again.

So-young asks if it was 'that cop' again, though, and Myunghon does freeze for a moment, but shakes their head. "No, it was... a polite man, really, but I think-- well, he definitely had a very dangerous aura about him. I had an inkling as to he might have truly been, however..." A deep breath, as they glance around, and says lower: "... I think it might have been the Joker Killer himself."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young will take it either way. Sometimes progress is confusing, that's just how it goes. Then you bumble around, maybe go through a punk phase or something, and then you work out what you want in the long-term. The only way, as she sees it, is to make sure you're doing something, and this definitely counts as 'something' even if it's also a coping technique for stress and fear.

"I do take your advice on these things," So-young points out playfully. "They fashioned me a gorgeous new baton out of those silvery tokens we got. It's exquisite work," she agrees, watching the change in Myunghon's face. "To be honest, I had only met Pernelle at first, but I was able to meet the owner unexpectedly at a fancy new bistro. I promised Pernelle an instrument and apparently that earns you his undying trust," she adds, in the carefree voice of one who is well aware just how much chaos they're going to cause down the line.

"Er," is all So-young can say after that, blinking in surprise as she ducks her head conspiratorially. She jolts her sunglasses down, because you gotta have sunglasses when you're whispering about killers. "Wait, just like that? I mean, you've got better instincts when it comes to this stuff than I do. Did you talk to that detective? Security footage?" So-young do you really think the Cardboard Dragon has cameras up-- well, yes, she does, because Myunghon does have a somewhat healthy and sensible level of paranoia at times.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It's hard! These fashions are from before they chose to be Myunghon Yeo, and everything that entails with. They're stained with the identity of Myorei Yukichi. Yet burning all that in the past is also entirely unhealthy, rather than attempting some sort of synthesis, and yet is that also still looking into the past...

Myunghon does choose a cafe that they seem to have chosen because it's close to the Peacock Silk. "I've been here a few times... the ambience is nice." Because, of course, they can't really talk to the quality of the food. "The wall-length windows are nice, so you can watch the street pass by while you wait."

Their attention is drawn when So-young mentions having met the owner, though. "Oh, you did meet Tsumugi? They're really-- intriguing, aren't they? The way they just transgress across-- everything, really, seemingly effortlessly... they're very well-read too, and--" Myunghon realises they've just escalated their heartrate up something heavy, and clears their throat as they flag the server and get them a seat. "Ah... tea for me, please."

The heavier topic of the Killer, however, has them hushing a bit as they settle down. "T-there was a blood-stained bill in his wallet. Everything about his stories felt... off, like he was deliberately trying to put me off-guard," Myunghon admits. "And the Resonance that cloaked him... ... you are right, though. Perhaps I should discuss it with Suou-san... I do have security footage."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "Oh, very nice," So-young notes with feeling as she steps into the cafe. Even before Myunghon has talked about people watching, So-young has swanned her way over to the large windows to peek outside, and gently place her bag on one of the vacant tables there to 'reserve' it. Maybe there really are some pastimes that they share in common after all.

The conductor's eyebrows go up in mild confusion, but she doesn't dare interrupt this strange, precious moment until it's done, though she sneakily glances at the menu halfway through. "An espresso, please, and I would love to try the cheesecake," she adds to the server, before looking thoughtfully across. "No... I don't think that was her name. "Yanagi' I think Pernelle said? A very musical, upbeat young woman. She asked me about you, though, and clearly was from the Peacock Silk given she showed up with Pernelle in her jacket. I thought we hit it off very well."

This is an impressive mental image to combine with 'fancy bistro', but there we are.

"Still, if you have that much praise to offer them, I should certainly keep an eye out for them next time. Hopefully they won't hate me too much if I give Pernelle something too loud to play, but I can't _not_ foster a musical talent, you understand," she adds, amusement dancing in her eyes. It's a useful distraction from the other topic, because something tells So-young that dwelling too hard on that topic is going to keep it looming large in the background. If all he's done is be foreboding, then-- well, they can handle that, and get a bit more coverage on the Cardboard Dragon for a while.

Resolving to text the group about that later, she instead rests her chin on one hand and her elbow on the table. "So. A date, huh?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon does catch up with So-young, after having their order taken. There's a blink as So-young responds that it's Yanagi that she met instead. "Oh, Sa-ya is also very nice," Myunghon does lace their hands together. "I'm particularly interested in her jewelcrafting. It's very hypnotic to watch her work. This Koala Pin is her work," they lightly tug at the silver chain ending at a beautiful sodalite Koala that's placed on the lapel buttonhole of their coat. "She has a wonderful presence too..."

Yanagi showed up with Pernelle in her jacket? At a bistro? That sounds rather intriguing...

A pause, as Myunghon gives that due consideration. "No, I think Tsumugi would probably just find that fascinating. Nothing much seems to flap them," they respond still with that kind of smitten-ness that seems almost uncharacteristic for Myunghon. ... then again, isn't this the person Myunghon was referring to when they had their argument a while back? The one Myunghon admitted was making them cry.

It's just so Myunghon to get ensnared in a messy relationship, though.

"A-a date? I said that?" Myunghon appears so scatter-brained they ALREADY FORGOT something they said five minutes ago.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> Whatever thoughts So-young might have about Myunghon's love life - never mind that she's well aware that's not reaaaally her business so long as they're happy in whatever mess they have - she can certainly appreciate a fine objet d'art, and she carefully examines the koala more closely. "I would never have guessed, honestly," she adds with an impressed tone in her voice, her eyebrows high. "I'm not a regular buyer or anything, but I'm definitely used to jewelers feeling very aloof, you know? Hushed shop, suits, endless little lockboxes."

On impulse she reaches into her bag, taking out a slim case that looks a little too thin to be glasses. Opening it, she takes out a silver telescoping baton, its 'hilt' a delicate filigree decoration, and equally carefully balances it between her hands for Myunghon to see. "I've never been very good at visual art. I wonder which of them worked on this?" she muses. "I would like to thank them in person, but we were a bit busy smashing the quiz to really hold much of a conversation."

They actually came third out of four, but this is her story and she'll tell it how she wants.

But even if that love life is not her business, she definitely can't leave mention of a 'date' alone, not when it simultaneously has Myunghon so scatterbrained. "You absolutely did," she confirms with a slow grin. "Should I ask with who, or will it be more amusing to work it out on my own? Ah, I met Shinobu-san's younger sister the other day, as well," is her opening gambit to see what she can read from Myunghon's reaction.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"Oh, no, Yanagi is much more lively and vivacious than that," Myunghon remarks, incapable of imagining anything of the Peacock Silk as hushed and locked. No, it's the fact that they seem so comfortable with themselves that they found themself very drawn to them, after all. But So-young displays the silver baton and Myunghon considers that for a time.

"Definitely Yanagi. She does all the metalworking. Saika does leatherworking, and Tsumugi is a tailor," Myunghon points out with a little bit of excitement. ... it's nice that they've been sufficiently distracted from being just so terrified to be out on the streets, perhaps. "You had a quiz...? That sounds like it might have been fun... oh-- wait, Yuarin invited me to an outing I couldn't make to a bistro in Kagurazaka. Don't tell me that was the same place?"

But the topic of a date is on the card again, and Myunghon does admit: "I'm seeing Tsumugi later... that's why I'm here."

They have no idea how to break that they're seeing two people now, even if what they have with Shinobu is still in... ...planning stages? How do they define that? "Oh, you met Reiko-san...? She's really nice. She helped me out a few times when I got pulled over by that cop..."

Oh. Suddenly, that excitement is gone as she's cold and scared again. "Speaking of earlier... there was something strange about the footage." Myunghon pulls their phone out to start paging through it and quietly shows the photo -- there's a shot of Myunghon speaking to someone at the counter, but their face is... obscured by a shadow, looking like pitch-black hands covering over his face.

"... it's unsettling..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young certainly looks appreciative as Myunghon fills in gaps in her knowledge regarding the Peacock Silk, and brightens happily as a result. "I see! Yes, that was it. The bistro's food was very nice and they were even kind enough to bring Pernelle a chair of his own, though I suppose I should reserve final judgement until I see what the place is like on a regular evening. The quiz night was certainly a lot of fun, but..."

Trailing off, the conductor frowns as she tries to imagine how Myunghon would take the loudness of the venue, the way that she and Pernelle and Yanagi broke into conducted song at the latter's behest. Even with all of their undisguised happiness at the thought of being around the members of the shop, she has to conclude: "... I'm forced to admit that it might have been a bit too loud and busy for you to feel particularly at ease?"

Her eyebrows raise in mild surprise. She was expecting the answer to be Shinobu, and perhaps that's why she hesitates. "I see... does that mean you've come to a decision? Ah-- to be clear, it is perfectly fine if you haven't," So-young adds quickly with a genuine tone, realizing it might be best to clarify that. "Whatever the answer to that question is right now, I think you'll get more out of giving something a try. Maybe I'll stop by and offer my thanks before leaving you to it."

On the subject of Reiko, So-young beams. "I got her phone number," she even crows triumphantly - though she laughs airily the next moment as she explains. "She was quick to strike up a conversation about RPG music, and mentioned she might know where to source some scores for me. It so happens I have a flutist who loves the series you've been playing, and would die to write an arrangement."

That cheer rather dissipates when she sees the photo, and her expression sours to a solemn frown. "... I assume your security cameras are not usually tuned to spot things like that?" she asks, because-- well, she doesn't know for sure. Maybe it's possible.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"I'm unsure if I should be more concerned the cameras did pick it up. It wasn't as if his face was obscured when I was speaking to him," Myunghon sounds rather paranoid and a little disturbed at this outcome.

Still, the conversation does swing back towards the Peacock Silk and So-young's journey to the bistro. They pout lightly as they say, "Nuna, it isn't as if I haven't tempered a battery against extroverts and other social activities for years. I can survive a night in a loud pub." They say that, but they've definitely folded in surprising and really quick ways in the past, soooo...

"Oh-- yes, you did mention video game music, did you not... that must have had her so excited," Myunghon quietly chuckles. But there's a hesitation in turn as the answer to who the date is with isn't what So-young expected, and when she asks if they've made to come to a decision:

"... in... what way?"

That might even be more suspicious than if it was yes or no!
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young is not very good at this 'metaverse' stuff. But she's at least able to quietly but doggedly go through the options until she chooses a likely possibility: "Is it a rumour, maybe? If I were some kind of serial killer, I would certainly consider spreading something that said 'security cameras can't pick up my face'. It would be a very blunt approach, but sometimes all you need is the quick and easy way."

"Well!" the conductor's approach is a lopsided smile. "I am simply pointing it out as a possibility. I don't think I did anything too embarrassing, at least. But from what I gathered, I don't think that was going to be the only trivia night. There is always another opportunity to go in the future, though if you ask me I'd rather take in some live music there. It would be a pretty breathtaking venue for it."

"Speaking of which, yes, she was fairly adorable, it's true. I promised her a ticket in return for her help, of course. It can be actually quite a chore to find sheet music for older games - you are usually looking for enthusiasts to help you track down an obscure guide."

Blinking, So-young meets Myunghon's final question with a blank look. "... I mean, I'm sure I remember you asking me 'what should I do?' The question was posed in a fairly general sense, I'm sure, but it's still quite a long way from that point to 'I have a date'." She considers that for a moment. "Not that it's meant badly. I mean it when I say the best way out of my own head is to just pick something and go, sometimes."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Perhaps if Myunghon was a serial killer, they too would think what they'd do is they'd pretend they were one of those deaf-mutes. (Let's not even pretend, Myunghon would pretty much be one of those teens that instantly associates with Catcher in the Rye.) "Perhaps... but it does lend credence that that was not just a typical killer either, if he was one," Myunghon admits.

"It was... Fleur de Lis? I'll keep it in mind if you think highly of it," Myunghon does ruminate. "I was thinking I never take the crew out, it might be nice to go somewhere a little further out once in a while."

Myunghon does look a little surprised at that. "... is it not on the internet? It seems like people are very opinionated and fixated on older video games."

But So-young clarifies that they were at 'what should I do' and now they're at 'I have a date', and....

"Um.... I picked both."

??????????????????????????
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "Well. Even if not a killer, then certainly a very suspicious and paranoid sort of figure," So-young sums up with a deep frown. She's definitely firing some messages around later on tonight, but at least she doesn't do so secretly: "We should at least make sure that there's more than one person in the shop for the time being. Safety in numbers, that sort of thing. It wouldn't hurt, at least," she adds with a distinct frown.

"Oh dear," So-young adds with an amused smile, trying to imagine the rather eclectic group all sitting together at a bistro's table. It's certainly a mental image to hold onto, and there's something fun in how chaotic it would inevitably be. "We should do it then next time they do a quiz. I'm fairly sure that between us all we'd somehow manage to cover every base possible."

"Often it is, but an official source is always better - not least because it also tells me who to contact for permission to actually use the music in the first place. You wouldn't believe how much work that can be, honestly. Sometimes it's the most exhausting part of the whole endeavour," she adds with a theatrical sigh. "Imitation is the greatest flattery, if you ask me, but you wouldn't know it with how grumpy some companies can be at the idea."

Both.

So-young's eyebrows raise sky-high this time, and she coughs an amused and impressed sort of noise. She's not so naive that she can't intuit what Myunghon means by that - the question is whether that's actually what Myunghon means, and whether they mean it as a full-blown solution or an interim exploration. "... I see!" she muses as she rubs at her chin. "Well, that is certainly an option as well. Ah, congratulations?" she offers, obviously still kind of thinking through the idea.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"T-that would be reassuring, but most people are very busy with their own schedule," Myunghon does admit. "Shinobu-ssi has gigs almost every night, Akabane-san has her long shifts, I definitely don't want to ask Shinjiro-ssi to go all the way from Port Island... and you've a long commute yourself."

There's a delicate little sigh as they grow a bit more despondent at the topic of commutes. "... I've wondered for a time, how do I become a bit more self-confident like you? I don't even feel like I can travel on trains particularly comfortably. I'm dressed like this today in part because I wanted to feel like I could qualify as being on the womens-only car, but even that has me feeling particularly out of sorts..."

They've plonked their head down on the table at this point. Looks like the battery's just about out, as they half-listen to So-young talk about how her video game concerts need official sources. So it has to be a licensed endeavour? That sounds like it'd be even more of a pain than a regular concert. "... I suppose I understand why you are a rebel now. Not only is video game music looked down on, it has more legal hoops than just borrowing, say, Mozart in the public domain."

There's a somewhat deflated murmur, "I did ask Shinobu-ssi, and she seemed... fine with it? And she wanted a casual relationship as well, and it isn't as if I suddenly wanted to end things with Tsumugi, they still... something about them draws me in..."

A frown. "Am I making a mistake? Somewhere, someplace, it does still feel like I'm making a mistake."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young shrugs one shoulder easily. "I don't mind the commute. If I did, I wouldn't do it so often," her assurance is kind of point-blank, but maybe she figures that being as unsubtle as possible is the best way to counter such worries. "Travelling is something I quite enjoy, even for something as mundane as going back and forth to Sumaru. I have plenty of ways to occupy my time with the things I enjoy while on a train or at the Cardboard Dragon. It's not a problem to make myself available."

"Cease and desist letters are very bad for concerts, it's true," she quips quickly, and then pauses. Her frown wavers towards surprise as Myunghon makes their feelings known, and she leans back in her chair, trying to figure out what to say towards that. Do not laugh, So-young, even if well-meant. You know what confusion happens then.

"... I don't really think I have an easy answer for you," she notes after a moment, but she's kind of assuming that Myunghon is all too aware of that possibility. "If I knew the magic trick for becoming annoyingly bull-headed I would certainly share it with you. I suppose if I had any question that might help point towards a path forwards, it would be: what makes dealing with the supernatural easy, for you?"

After all, Myunghon's whole demeanour changes when in the Metaverse, when leading a group of people. And even when they're not in that role, they've mentioned demons being easier to talk to. Leaving aside the fact Myunghon was complaining about her at the time, she can't help but feel there's still something important in that. "Is it because you know the rules?" So-young adds as a faint guess.

"Any one of us could be making a mistake at all times. My coffee might arrive stone-cold and the cheesecake rock-hard," yes this is the best way to make this point, congratulations, she notes, but forges onwards. "So I don't think that last question is going to be all that useful to you. If this is what you feel you want, then that's good enough for me, whether it's long term or while trying to figure your feelings out."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"Have you ever thought about how silly it is that you're expected to find only one person and have that person fulfill all your needs, for the rest of your life?" Myunghon wonders of So-young. "It's... Tsumugi isn't much for emotional openness, but Shinobu-ssi is... and..."

"... and it's not about the commute, it's just... I mean, I do like trains and travelling, but recently I just don't really feel safe in my own skin anymore," Myunghon sounds rather glum about the prospect, perhaps mixing the two topics as they kind of stir around in their head. "It feels as if someone could just be around the corner to hurt me or--" there's a little bit of a wheeze to their breath, before they realise they're really uncomfortable with their head down.

"I just want to be someone who can... comfortably exist around town like you," Myunghon reflects on the energy So-young carries around town, around Shibuya, around here, in Shimokita. Of course, there's some really easy things to point out WHY they feel this way, from the mom-attempted-to-kill-them they still haven't told So-young, to the actual physical abuse they've received at Ishiba's hands, to whatever the mystery Shadow Man is now.

What makes dealing with the supernatural easy, then?

...

The white-haired Rumourmonger slowly rises, to prim and proper posture, a little too-sharp smile that's shaped like a V. That lethargy and fright in their posture is completely gone.

"A realm of possibility... 'the best of all possible worlds', in their words," Merry reflects, eye slightly wide and enthralled. "A way in which we can possibly unseat that which has been made 'reality' by the people that we despise most... it is power, plain and simple, where there is nothing to be had in the physical realm. Would you not say you've had a realm of possibility opened to you, So-young?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> "You're thinking much too much of me if you think I've ever thought about it that deeply," So-young does laugh this time, because she can freely laugh at her own expense - but there's a glimmer of understanding in her smile afterwards. "But you've decided to break out of a mould and figure out your own approach rather than the 'expected' one - good on you, as far as I'm concerned. If I have any comment, it's that you'll probably want to make sure you're open about how you're feeling at any given time. Do not let yourself become jealous and leave it to fester. Same goes for them."

There's a note of-- not quite lived experience there, but perhaps observed experience. Well, she has described some of her university friends as 'messy drama students'...

"I think you have every reason to be cautious right now," So-young still says. Even if Myunghon hasn't shared the situation with their mother, there's no end of other events recently that have battered her poor sibling down, and there's a certain degree of annoyed frustration at the world in the way the conductor frowns and folds her arms. "You've had an extremely rough month, and I don't think anyone is particularly expected to bounce back from that in an instant."

After a pause, she frowns, not great at navigating this. "... it's probably something that only comes with practice. Going out, doing pleasant things, recognizing that you did a pleasant thing and you're okay and that's another night down. I mean, you've got a date. No-one can say you aren't doing your best to reclaim that feeling of safety, and hopefully the rest is time."

...

So-young snaps her fingers. "Yes, exactly! Like that."

... ...

Oh, they're expecting an answer. Uhhhh. This might be a bit high-concept even for So-young to immediately switch gears to. "... I wonder about that. Honestly, it feels like it has raised questions rather than possibilities, and left me wondering what the hell is going on more often than not. That might be because of my position as someone who has a degree of privilege in the physical realm. But... that does feel like it speaks to the idea of banding together, doesn't it? It is how we fended off Kaneshiro at first, and how we fended off Ishiba as well, without our Persona."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Should it be worrying? The way in which Myunghon makes a one-eighty and all the tension just leaves their body as they submit to the mask of being Merry. Perhaps, perhaps not. "There shall always be questions. That is the exciting pursuit of possibility, dear nuna," they remark. "If we were to be able to plumb the entire depths and have no questions left... that is the day that the supernatural would cease to interest me."

... does the fact that they've switched modes mean that they're struggling to continue the conversation further with So-young?? RUDE! And here she was sympathising with how difficult things have been for them the past month!!

They rise to full height, prompting some people to curiously stare at what's going on as they spread their arms... lightly. Even Merry has trouble with their arms.

"It is an escape, a backdoor, whatever you may call it. Even in a position of privilege as you have, your capability to change society is woefully limited. Those in power have made sure that the ladder does not extend down such that one can reach with only their hands."

Then they lean forward, almost across the table. "I must thank you. I think I have a better idea yet of how it is one should resist. And that is the key, is it not? We are in constant resistance with the world, and the only action that speaks to certain defeat is to submit."

Merry quietly checks their watch, then points gently to the Peacock Silk. "It is about time for our.... date." They place a finger on their lips with a chuckle. "There is a rather interesting music store two blocks down, Babel Records, that you might find fascinating."

They drape that white coat a little tighter around themself, and quietly pulls their bag up. "Be well, sister. Perhaps I shall see you at the Cardboard Dragon tonight?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> At least it's that much clearer to So-young now that Myunghon _is_ masking, and what exactly that means. Her expression is kept fairly neutral as she chews on that thought, not really feeling one way or another about it. Perhaps she can think of it best as method acting, but... as yourself? Either way, she's not about to call it good or bad, it just simply is. As a response to Myunghon's fears, maybe it's for the best right at this moment, but something leaves So-young a little uncertain and it's taking her a moment to figure out exactly what that is.

The conductor chuckles, at least. "Well. There are questions such as 'why does the Dark Hour exist', but there are also much more immediate issues like 'who the hell keeps targeting you like this' that could use a more concrete and direct answer. Those are the ones I'm particularly interested in right at this moment, you could say."

"I suppose you're right. Still - and I realize this is coming from me of all people - we have still been able to do things collectively, and that counts for something even if that is simply pushback and support. You have helped quite a few people in the physical world along the way, and they've helped you in turn," So-young notes, thinking of Shinjiro and Tsubasa first and foremost here.

Ah, there it is, maybe? It's when Myunghon talks about constant resistance that So-young frowns slightly and it occurs to her: "... just be careful that you don't stretch yourself too thin in the process, whichever way you go," she frowns, feeling oddly protective for once. "Again, I realize this is hilarious coming from me, but a little vulnerability does not hurt from time to time. Even I have days where I just want to lie back and curl up. Or to put it another way - which Myunghon is your date expecting to meet today?"

With a faint huff, So-young nods. "In any case. Have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't do." She manages to deliver this with a straight face, but there's amusement in her eyes. "Sage advice, really. I'll be there."
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-15: Detonating Cats

2025-11-18T03:32:18Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: Detonating Cats''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Tatsuya Sudou *'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' November 15, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 11, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Myunghon gets a visit from a terribly nice man called Taka Suho and sells him a copy of Detonating Cats. Will the world ever be the same after?'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> It's... a remarkably slow Saturday at the Cardboard Drag..."

*'''Log: Detonating Cats'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Tatsuya Sudou]]
*'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' November 15, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 11, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Myunghon gets a visit from a terribly nice man called Taka Suho and sells him a copy of Detonating Cats. Will the world ever be the same after?''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It's... a remarkably slow Saturday at the Cardboard Dragon. The kids aren't here, despite it being summer break -- or perhaps because it is summer break, because even Kasugayama High kids have plans that involve being somewhere other than a dingy, fairly run-down card game and bookstore nestled in an alley in Hirasaka Ward. Like, for starters, not being in Hirasaka if they can help it.

Myunghon's been having a troubled time of late, and today they're largely holed up in the store themself, seated at the couch having just returned from a trip outside, with a chocolate ruffle blouse with a black ribbon bolo tie, a white A-line inverted pleat skirt, leggings, and white shoes. Their Cognitive Coat isn't worn at present, hung on a coat rack about five metres away.

They've got something urgent to share with the Dark Side of Sumaru, so most of their focus is on the computer at present...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Sudou has posed.
<poem>
The door chimes, and in steps a rather tall blonde hair fellow wearing a pair of jeans a red t-shirt and a blue overshirt. The face is a new face to the shop. The customer stops upon the shop and looks around and even sniffs the air, nothing weird about this.

Tatsuya Sudou slowly makes his way through the aisles as he stops and looks at Myunghon, "Huh no Akabane-san today it seems." A casual comment is made before he approaches the front.

Standing there a little awkward for a moment before he says, "So, I have a couple of young siblings. Trying to find something new for them to enjoy. Think you could help me out?"

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
The doorbell chimes, and a new customer enters. The blonde fellow is not someone Myunghon's seen before -- the air is pleasant enough for how old a building this is; it's a fastidiously kept-enough space. There's an advertising for the NEW! Sourdough Princess Sourdough Starter Set: Bring Your Dough in today!

Of course, this is also the place where, if the rumours are true (and they always are), you could seek out Rumourmonger Merry and find Skill Cards here, if you're in the know... a person Sudou's fought in Sevens, that one time. They were bleeding out by the end then.

Myunghon blinks twice, before quietly rising with a tilt of their head and a soft, tired smile. "Ah, are you... a friend of Akabane-san's? Sorry, they aren't present today." There's something about this man's resonance... it does remind them of Umie, somehow. Something obfuscated. Something obscure.

A pause, as the customer inquires that he wants something for his siblings. "Ah, certainly. We do have card games suited for younger ages..." Why are they suddenly nervous, and even a bit scared? They want to reach for the coat, but that's a bit rude to a customer.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Sudou has posed.
<poem>
Sudou doesn't blink at the uncomfortableness radiating from Myunghon, he is kinda nose-deaf to it after all. Taking a moment he contemplates what to actually get. "Well let see, I have one about to go off to college, avid book lover. I have another in highschool, he is obsessed with explosions. Then again what kid isn't at that age. Then I have a baby sister who is totally into cute things. " Sudou rambles on for a moment as he scans behind the counter.

" Oh and also for one of their friends, this kid who likes flowers, OH and another who has that high schooler hero complex. You know the guy who thinks he is going to make it all right." Sudou nods his head as he rambles before he gives Myunghon a moment to respond.

Rubbing his chin, "Not quite a friend, I bumped into her once when she was leaving here. Literally. I was carrying some glass ketchup bottles, and oh man." Sudou chuckles, "After they shattered on the ground we both looked like we had come out of some bad murder stage play."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Taken at face value, Sudou's story would be quite heartwarming... that's quite the large family. Sudou himself looks like he could be around the same age as this older sibling, if not a bit older. "A book lover? We do carry a lot of books here, both in their original languages and translated to Japanese..." Myunghon expresses gently, trying to not let the stammer show.

There's a source of Cognition here that pings to Sudou -- it's coming from the binder just behind the counter. It's unmistakably the binder where the Skill Cards are stored.

"That sounds like you have quite the handful... ah, my apologies, my name is Myunghon Yeo. And yours?" Myunghon attempts polite talk. He's gone off to speak about his siblings' friends... a kid who likes flowers? And another with a hero complex... well, they could write off his comments as just being particularly friendly and thoughtful about those around him and yet--

"A-ah, here?" Myunghon looks uncomfortable at the mention of ketchup bottles. Umie did say she was attacked before. "My, I hope there wasn't any light-coloured clothing involved. But is it true? I heard ketchup doesn't appear realistic. What they have to do in movies to make the blood look realistic is quite a difficult endeavour, I heard..."

Why are they still talking about blood? A stiffness has risen around their shoulders, the man's obfuscated aura only drawing and piquing more paranoia around them. They reach for their phone on the counter to try to text -- but Sudou could intercept this if he wants to.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Sudou has posed.
<poem>
Sudou snickers, " Well this shirt use to be white, but alas it did not survive." Looking at the shirt, it is obvious that it was red from the store and the smiles on Sudou's face says he is making a joke. A few beats later he adds another chuckle, "No light-colored clothes were harmed."

Sudou's head tilts for a moment to the binder with the skill cards but turns back to Myunghon. " It's a pleasure to meet you, I am Taka Suho. " A slight bow is given as he smiles at the greeting. "Oh you know, some people say they are trouble but really my siblings are just misunderstood. Also I swear there friends like to try to get them in trouble."

"So for a book lover, would you have a recommendation for philosophy, or perhaps at least some poetry? "
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon stops in the midst of their texting as Sudou points out the shirt used to be white, but not anymore. It's... that's not a white shirt stained red with ketchup. The implications are perturbing. "Ah, yes, of course," they mask a quiet chuckle. "Suho-san, then..." It's... not the world's best attempt at a psuedonym, is it. "Do tell me a little more about your siblings. Where do they go to school at -- at Kasu, or?"

The Rumourmonger paces around the counter to move towards the shelves, perhaps a terrible choice given how more obscured they are from the rest of the store. "Philosophy or poetry... let's see, what about the poetry of Akiko Yosano? They're quite short but very evocative," they gesture towards a whole section of older books by authors from quite a ways back. It's all pretty dated, no books released in the last several decades...

"I must say, I feel as if I've seen you somewhere before, Suho-san. Perhaps it's related to Akabane-san, or..."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Sudou has posed.
<poem>
"Gekkoukan High School, " Sudou says as he follows behind Myunghon and begins to peruse the books. At the mention of Akiko Yosano, he reaches out and touches the books for a moment. In some way as if he is expecting something to happen. You never know with dusty old books. " Oh I think he would definitely enjoy that. " Without another thought he picks up the poetry book.

Standing up straight he blinks at Myunghon, "Well I don't remember this shop being here ten years ago so it couldn't be that. I only got back into town recently." A few steps and still scanning the shelves, " I come and go down these streets often enough lately that I am sure you've spotted me here and there. I finally had a free day and with mid-terms over and all I felt no better time than to peek in with a valid excuse." A genuine smile appears on his face.

"I do wish I had a place like this when I was in highschool. I would have lived here."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"I see... over at Tatsumi, hmm?" Myunghon muses gently, and lets Sudou collect the poetry book. The spine's pretty well-bound, how about that! Not all their books just disintegrate the moment you touch them. They'd probably still be very vulnerable to Fire, however. But Sudou mentions not remembering this shop from ten years ago--

"Ah...?" Myunghon pauses, as the words Ten Years Ago echo in their mind. To Yukari, to the incident at Gekkoukan... "This is quite the old building, but I think there was a minor newspaper office here. It was abandoned by the time I purchased the rights. This building is quite... interesting." Sudou does mention that he only got back into town recently, but he does come and go around quite a bit...

They walk towards the counter again, having presented the books. "So you are in university, then. And I do appreciate a nice bookstore, it is true..." A longer pause. "I went to Sevens myself. There's been a lot of commotion happening there. I didn't expect one of the teachers to be attacked by the Joker Killer and everything..."

The Rumourmonger pauses, as if the old scar wound on their stomach is hurting again.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Sudou has posed.
<poem>
Sudou chuckles, "You flatter me. I wish I was still in university. No I went up north for university, and came back here now to help raise my siblings and give them the same opportunity." Sudou was absolutely a good big brother. " Though I will admit, my younger siblings are going to have to learn some maturity before they get to university."

Looking at the building for a moment he tries to remember this place, "Was it a newspaper office? I barely even remember that now. " Shaking his head he chuckles lightly, " I guess back then I wasn't really paying attention to any place that I didn't have a reason to go to. I could tell you the ramen at the convenient shop a few blocks over was always great. "

"So what games would you recommend to a couple of highschoolers who like explosions and cute things."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"Up north, hmm... I've never been. Sendai or someplace else?" Myunghon hazards a guess. He's not particularly reaching for the topics they're setting out, perhaps out of a lack of interest or something else... well, no matter. "I suppose that's how siblings are for you -- I've never quite known how to handle one myself..."

A quiet tap of their chin, gently. "I believe so, but I don't think it was a particularly successful building. This particular place has changed hands so many times that it was being sold for a song by the time I arrived..." Myunghon remarks gently. It's so strange. He really doesn't look like he'd be far out of university at most... one supposes that if he were their age, he could've been reminiscing from when he was a teen in Hirasaka.

"I do recommend Shiraishi Izakaya at the Kameya Alley, if you want a place to eat here," Myunghon does advise. Not Shiraishi Ramen? And that Detective office moved too... tch... it's all different.

Explosions and cute things.

"Let's see... there's this party game that only has a deck of cards called Detonating Cats," Myunghon draws it from the shelf and places it in front of them. "The art is quite cute, and the game is very simple to play even with younger siblings, but it has some strategy for it for the adults."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Sudou has posed.
<poem>
"I suspect with just about anything involving people, it differs depending on the sibling. Perhaps if they are really difficult just treat them like a customer till you get a grip on things. " Sudou offers unsolicited advice before he adds. " I do hope you have better luck with this building than the other tenants. I have a shrine visit coming up, I will wish you goodluck. "

Sudou's eyes light up at the game recommendation, "That sounds perfect for the two and I will even get to play myself perfect. They will get a lesson in strategy. " Sudou chuckles as he places the book on the game. "So what's the damage?"

Sudou pulls a wallet out of his back pocket and then looks at Myunghon, "Does Shiraishi Izakaya do take out? If so maybe I will plan a game night with me and my siblings. "
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon blinks once at that advice, then can't help but weakly chuckle. "... I have been unfair on my end as well. Once I compared her to being more difficult than if I had to negotiate with a demon. But it seems like you are quite experienced handling siblings, Suho-san." It still sounds so fake... there's a gentle nod as he says he'll pray for them at the shrine. Well, that's very nice of him.

"The Detonating Cats game is 2,000 yen," Myunghon advises. "The Akiko Yoshida poetry book will run you 3,980... but for the two, how about we just call it 5,000 all up? Call it a first-time bonus to encourage you to come back."

They're still unsure about the nature of this obsfuscated man. It's like something could pounce out of the shadows at any moment. But that's not the only person they've done business with, now is it? There's Shiryuu...

"I do believe they do takeout. Ma'am is a pretty generous soul." They look towards that wallet for a moment.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Tatsuya Sudou has posed.
<poem>
Sudou nods his head and smiles, "I greatly appreciate that." The wallet flips open and is immediately opened for paper currency. It's not a lot maybe 10,000 yen in a variety of bills. He grabs a few and is about to hand it over before catching something and chuckles. "Oops wrong one." He places it back in the wallet, that one having a few drops of ketchup on it.

The 5,000 yen is set on the countertop and Sudou picks the two things up. "I wouldn't worry to much about your sibling, demons are not always that hard to negotiate with if you just offer your soul up." A laugh is given after as Sudou finds his own words funny. " I appreciate everything. Especially the food recommendation. I will make sure to come by, or send my siblings even. " Sudou promises more patronage before he turns to leave, just as casually as he came in.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon's had quite the nose for blood ever since they became the target of a Rumour of being the Hirasaka Hospital Vampire... and the way Suho-san opens his wallet and accidentally (accidentally?) pulls out the blood-stained 10,000 yen bill does give them pause. A blood-stained bill with a Yukichi on it. Fukuzawa Yukichi... or Myorei Yukichi? Something echoes within that particular bill--

"... ah, yes, I remember when Yukichi-san famously had ketchup on his clothes," Myunghon does murmur, staring up towards Suho. They accept the 5,000 yen and does help Sudou with any wrapping if he requires it, but Sudou's words about how Demon negotiation isn't that hard -- they only have to offer their soul up for it.

"Are we all not?" Myunghon inquires, a rigid, Merry-like smile on their face. "Do take care, Suho-san. Yes, perhaps when someone calls you for me, hmmm?"
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

Myunghon Yeo

2025-11-14T08:57:29Z

Merilan:

{| class="toccolours" style="width: 15%; float: right; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align: left; font-size: %110" cellspacing="2"
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Myunghon Yeo'''
|-
! colspan="2" align="center" | [[File:Myunghon4.jpg|300px]]
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''IC Information'''
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Full Name:
| Myunghon Yeo 여 명혼 - Hanja: 麗明魂
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Tsumei:
| Myorei Yukichi - 諭吉明霊
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Arcana:
| Devil
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Pronouns:
| They/them
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Gender:
| 人間失格
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Age (Birthdate):
| 23 (May 23rd, 1993)
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Hair Colour:
| Ash-white
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Eye Colour:
| Gray, filmy
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Height:
| 175cm (5'9")
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Residence:
| The Cardboard Dragon, 3rd Floor
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Workplace:
| The Cardboard Dragon, 2nd Floor
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Job:
| Rumourmonger
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Role:
| Focus
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Persona:
| Kudlak
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''OOC Information'''
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Source:
| Persona 5 (OC)
|-
! style="text-align:left" |Voice Actor (JP):
| Sumire Uesaka
|-
! style="text-align:left" |Voice Actor (EN):
| Amber Lee Connors
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Groups:
| Cardboard Dragon
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Player:
| [[User:Merilan]]
|-
|}

'''"The higher I rose, the more I realised what I did disqualified me as a human being."'''

Myunghon Yeo -- Myorei Yukichi to most -- is the capricious, bohemian Zainichi Korean owner of the Cardboard Dragon, a dingy little book and card store in Hirasaka Ward, Sumaru City. However, the shop acts as a front for their true job as the leader of the Baengnyong, an information agency that employs a number of Zainichi Koreans, including those with darker backgrounds. In the evening, they are Rumourmonger Merry, selling rumours and tips to those willing to pay top price, possessing intel some believe she obtains through dark means. The truth is both plainer and stranger -- they spelunk the depths of the supernatural to acquire secrets and valuables from people's hearts. Despite their relatively young age, Myunghon possesses a prodigal history through the ladders of international corporations, which makes their betrayal as architect of the Great Surrender, which saw a large corporation fall during the Great Recession a few years back, baffling to those who believe they had a secure, comfortable future in its wings.

= Background =

==Season 1, Episode 1==

First seen performing Magic River Teleportation in the Hyakumanzeki Festival in Rengedai, Myunghon Yeo -- aka Rumourmonger Merry -- is an eccentric, bohemian individual on the surface concealing disaster and sorrow underneath that gentle masking. What have they gotten up to? Why...

=== MSQ: The Cardboard Dragon ===

* In June and July, Myunghon became fast friends with a number of Persona-Users, including [[Shinjiro Aragaki]], who came to them on the case of the Joker Killer, [[Shinobu Shimizu]] and [[Remi Ryuuja]], who works for the Cardboard Dragon, and [[Mio Kazama]], whose driving skills they rely on frequently.
* Myunghon struggles with having to oppose their closest friends [[Miho Ijuuin]], [[Yua Ooshiro]] and [[Remi Ryuuja]], who have ties and masks behind the NWO.
* Myunghon found out they have a [[2025-07-25:_A_WILD_SISTER_HAS_APPEARED|half-sister]] in [[So-young Park]]!
* The Cardboard Dragon group helped take down the Emperor and Empress Full Moon Shadows, rescuing [[Fuuka Yamagishi]] in the process.
* The Cardboard Dragon group [[2025-08-15:_Scarface|helped take down Kaneshiro]], where they discovered that the Phantom Thieves of Hearts are also interested in Palaces.
* Myunghon is investigating the Kirijo Group on behalf of [[Yukari Takeba]].
* The Cardboard Dragon group is also taking on investigating Eiji's palace for [[Ichika Kawase]] and also the Atelier of Taro Nakata for [[Hazuki Nakao]].

=== No Longer Human Arc ===

* They met [[Tsumugi Kujaku]] at the Peacock Silk, who [[2025-08-12:_Are_You_Alive|wondered if they were alive or dead]], yet reminded them that intimacy was still something they felt.
* Following these instincts, they ask Shinobu to take them out to the arcade and conspire with Shinjiro to buy rock ticket concerts for them, and [[2025-09-09:_Where_Does_It_Stop|confessed their attraction]] to Shinobu, who couldn't return their feelings.
* With awkward tensions abound in the Cardboard Dragon, Myunghon is [[2025-09-24:_The_Best_of_All_Possible_Worlds|visited]] by Tsumugi after a long day and the two spend the night together despite their hesitations over the former's perspective on freedom and attachments.
* Myunghon ''instantly'' regrets this decision the next morning when Shinobu [[2025-09-25:_The_Morning_After|walks in on them]] asleep.

'''Next Objective:''' Reject Intimacy, Bottle Everything Up Again

=== The Food Arc ===

* Myunghon confessed that food tastes like ash to [[2025-08-07:_Tiny_Apartment_Confessional|Shinjiro]], [[2025-08-24:_Picky_Eaters|Yua]] and some other people and have no sense of taste or smell.
* They still don't want to give up on food. They asked Katsuya to [[2025-09-25:_Rise_of_the_Vampire_Baker|teach them how to bake]] so they can treat others.

'''Next Objective:''' Wait for the Blood Cravings to Hit

=== The Racist Cop Arc ===

* Myunghon is being repeatedly profiled and harrassed by a racist cop, Koichi Ishiba, and has had to be bailed out by [[Reiko Shimizu]] and [[Katsuya Suou]] on different occasions.
* The racist cop arc reached a climax when Koichi Ishiba [[2025-08-30: Otherside Picnic|gave them a concussion and a dislocated shoulder]] and sent them to the hospital.
* It's revealed Myunghon is traumatised and [[2025-08-31:_The_White_Room|terrified of hospitals]] which led Tsumugi to [[2025-09-03:_Why_Do_Birds_Fly|send them flying out their window]], which in turn made them the topic of a vampire that appeared at Hirasaka Hospital. Now they can't stay in the sun for long and probably have a blood craving too.
* They had to be convinced out of [[2025-09-02: Constants|giving Koichi Ishiba a Mental Shutdown]] following the above.
* They [[2025-09-13:_Like_a_Cardboard_Dragon:_Ishin!!|nearly got killed by their mother]], famous actress Suzie Park, when it was revealed she isn't happy with how they're running the Baengnyong and also how poorly they're handling being profiled by a racist cop. They're still terrified of her.

'''Next Objective:''' Remain Paralysed in Fear

=== Sidequests ===

* They [[2025-08-12: I Rolled A One|run a post-midnight tabletop group]] for Jack Frost and Pyro Jack.
* They worked hard to get [[Tsubasa Seki]] a binder at the Peacock Silk!! And then they befriended certified good dog Lance too.
* They agreed to let [[Hitomi Mandai]] run a tabletop game at the Cardboard Dragon.
* They found out they shared a passion over stuffing toy cars in their mouth with Pernelle.

= Persona =

'''Kudlak:''' Kudlak is a pitch-black humanoid figure in a large, fluttering cape that blends seamlessly with Myunghon's black cognitive coat. His limbs are similarly matte-dark, with the suggestion of a 17th century nobleman's attire towards his top. Though he barely has a face, crimson eyes peek out from behind silvered bangs.

= Skills =

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Intellect'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Superluminary
|Thinking. Overthinking. Overthinking so hard you're underthinking
|-
|Fin de Siecle
|Book Nerds. 1900's facts. Nostalgia.
|-
|A Fool's Life
|Rumourmongers. Hope. (Or that goal-shifting thing you call hope, anyway)
|-
|Commedia dell Arte
|Demon Negotiations. Cops that ask why you're floating in the river
|-
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Psyche'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Koala March
|Lefties. Communists. Calories. UNCOOL FOR: Diabetics
|-
|Baengnyong
|Criminals. Pretend-criminals. Palaces
|-
|Jirai-kei
|Homoerotic Stabbings. Mouldy third floor dwellings
|-
|Communauté
|Not turning up to boss fights alone. Hirasaka
|-
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Physique'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|No Longer Human
|Faking it. Hurt/Comfort fics
|-
|Antiseptic
|You. UNCOOL FOR: Poison Control
|-
|White Room
|Lifting two boxes before you give up and call Shinobu
|-
|I Am A Cat
|Hittin da Bricks
|-
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Motorics'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Fish Eye
|Pretending you have depth perception
|-
|Magickque
|Skill Cards. Magicians. Being outsmarted by dogs
|-
|Преступленіе и наказаніе
|Rich people with deeply unrich brains
|-
|Stay Frosty
|KOOL FOR: Jack
|-
|}

= Relationships =

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="3" | '''Reltionships'''
|-
!Name
!Skill
!Thought
|-
|'''Dettol''' (750ml bottle)
|★★★★★ ★★★★★
|Thou hast truly forged an inseparable bond. Where one goes, the other follows, wafting about on the winds. Forget the odd looks. They don't ''understand'' you and your whirlwind romance with corner store disinfectants.
|-
|[[Miho Ijuuin]]
|★★★
|There is an intimate promise that sabre-steel will penetrate into your flesh right to the hilt, until you spasm and quiver; "Just a little more," you say, until you can't hold your coronary arteries in any longer.
|-
|[[Yua Ooshiro]]
|★★★
|''Protect.'' It feels ''good'' to hear that from her, doesn't it? How long has it been since you last let yourself be ''vulnerable''? How long until it becomes a mistake again?
|-
|[[Remi Ryuuja]]
|★★★
|And this is the the third reason, isn't it? I have news, though: salary and blood are mutually exclusive, no matter how much you pretend it isn't.
|-
|[[Shinobu Shimizu]]
|★★★
|A cold, hard splash. Your lungs, full of chlorine, salt and blood. You can't breathe... she's taken your breath away.
|-
|[[Shinjiro Aragaki]]
|★★★
|You've ''really'' done it now. You let another one get close. His is your scent -- the scent of death and sacrifice. He won't betray you like the others... right?
|-
|[[Yukari Takeba]]
|★★
|If you need to know how hard it was for her to confide in you, just ''think'' about how hard it would be for Myorei Yukichi to have done the same thing.
|-
|[[Katsuya Suou]]
|★★
|The days of trite fun when he was your ''tsukkomi'' are over.
|-
|[[Mio Kazama]]
|★
|You have ''no idea'' what a V6 is. No matter what you do, don't pretend you do -- you're already ''the weird adult'' to this speed-demon.
|-
|[[Ulala Serizawa]]
|★
|A cold breeze stings your spine through the old windows and reminds you: ''Not everyone gets a friend as steadfast as that.''
|-
|[[Maya Amano]]
|★
|Your nerves are fire. She has spoken ''dangerwords,'' words that arouse both Mr. Fight and Mr. Flight into a homoerotic twist: is it possible that the Cardboard Dragon could be... ''cool''?
|-
|[[Hitomi Mandai]]
|★
|The human finger is slathered in a grotesque package of fat and dead skin cells. You believe this young woman understands that cards are more precious than fingers.
|-
|[[Suzume Fukura]]
|★
|Somewhere within the labyrinthine-complex of Stratum-4 is a triple-pack of Killers, but it is not even an obstacle to someone with eighth-bit mastery.
|-
|[[Yanagi Nagisa]]
|★
|It still stings, doesn't it? Long after she left, her mark still lingers in the store, telling you what could be, if only you believed more in life and the living.
|-
|[[Tsumugi Kujaku]]
|★
|You long ago swore an oath to me to make your facade ''invincible''. In Kujaku you see the you that actually succeeded at that. But there's more to it than that, isn't there?
|-
|[[So-young Park]]
|★
|You can either continue to wallow in this shallow jealousy of haves and have-nots, or you can band together with nuna and confront the common nemesis that is your mother.
|-
|[[Ayame Watanabe]]
|★
|Drowning. Drowning. Drowning. Your lungs, full of air... she has received the length of your measure. Snip.
|-
|[[Ikkaku Watanabe]]
|★
|You can lose blood. You can lose fingers. Your psyche can break. Koume shouldn't lose her father.
|-
|[[Ichika Kawase]]
|★
|Are you done talking to her in the language of eggshells? You messed up. There's no other way I can put it.
|-
|}

= Soundtrack =

* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPd-iAMktY8 Euthanasia] by Will Wood
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSm5gKlmw2M Spamton] by Toby Fox
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBB70hwxWec Choice] by Jack Stauber
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rAA-1LUI_M KIKIKAITAI] by Kanna Katata · MURASAKI
= Logs and Cutscenes =

==Season 1==

===Logs===
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Logs'''
|-
| <div style="column-count: 2;">
{{#dpl:
|category = logs&season 1
|linksto = {{PAGENAME}}
|ordermethod = title
|columns = 2
|rowcolformat=width=50%
|suppresserrors = yes
| addcategories = true
| mode = userformat
| format = ,,\n* [[%PAGE%]],
|noresultsheader=There are no logs on this wiki that {{PAGENAME}} participated in.
}}
| </div>
|-
|}

===Cutscenes===
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Cutscenes'''
|-
| <div style="column-count: 2;">
| {{#dpl:
|category = cutscenes&season 1
|linksto = {{PAGENAME}}
|ordermethod = title
|columns = 2
|rowcolformat=width=50%
|suppresserrors = yes
| addcategories = true
| mode = userformat
| format = ,,\n* [[%PAGE%]],
|noresultsheader=There are no cutscenes on this wiki that {{PAGENAME}} participated in.
}}
| </div>
|-
|}

[[Category:Characters]]
[[Category:Cardboard Dragon]]
[[Category:Focus]]

Myunghon Yeo

2025-11-14T08:56:17Z

Merilan:

{| class="toccolours" style="width: 15%; float: right; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align: left; font-size: %110" cellspacing="2"
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Myunghon Yeo'''
|-
! colspan="2" align="center" | [[File:Myunghon4.jpg|300px]]
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''IC Information'''
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Full Name:
| Myunghon Yeo 여 명혼 - Hanja: 麗明魂
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Tsumei:
| Myorei Yukichi - 諭吉明霊
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Arcana:
| Devil
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Pronouns:
| They/them
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Gender:
| 人間失格
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Age (Birthdate):
| 23 (May 23rd, 1993)
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Hair Colour:
| Ash-white
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Eye Colour:
| Gray, filmy
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Height:
| 175cm (5'9")
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Residence:
| The Cardboard Dragon, 3rd Floor
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Workplace:
| The Cardboard Dragon, 2nd Floor
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Job:
| Rumourmonger
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Role:
| Focus
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Persona:
| Kudlak
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''OOC Information'''
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Source:
| Persona 5 (OC)
|-
! style="text-align:left" |Voice Actor (JP):
| Sumire Uesaka
|-
! style="text-align:left" |Voice Actor (EN):
| Amber Lee Connors
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Groups:
| Cardboard Dragon
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Player:
| [[User:Merilan]]
|-
|}

'''"The higher I rose, the more I realised what I did disqualified me as a human being."'''

Myunghon Yeo -- Myorei Yukichi to most -- is the capricious, bohemian Zainichi Korean owner of the Cardboard Dragon, a dingy little book and card store in Hirasaka Ward, Sumaru City. However, the shop acts as a front for their true job as the leader of the Baengnyong, an information agency that employs a number of Zainichi Koreans, including those with darker backgrounds. In the evening, they are Rumourmonger Merry, selling rumours and tips to those willing to pay top price, possessing intel some believe she obtains through dark means. The truth is both plainer and stranger -- they spelunk the depths of the supernatural to acquire secrets and valuables from people's hearts. Despite their relatively young age, Myunghon possesses a prodigal history through the ladders of international corporations, which makes their betrayal as architect of the Great Surrender, which saw a large corporation fall during the Great Recession a few years back, baffling to those who believe they had a secure, comfortable future in its wings.

= Background =

==Season 1, Episode 1==

First seen performing Magic River Teleportation in the Hyakumanzeki Festival in Rengedai, Myunghon Yeo -- aka Rumourmonger Merry -- is an eccentric, bohemian individual on the surface concealing disaster and sorrow underneath that gentle masking. What have they gotten up to? Why...

=== MSQ: The Cardboard Dragon ===

* In June and July, Myunghon became fast friends with a number of Persona-Users, including [[Shinjiro Aragaki]], who came to them on the case of the Joker Killer, [[Shinobu Shimizu]] and [[Remi Ryuuja]], who works for the Cardboard Dragon, and [[Mio Kazama]], whose driving skills they rely on frequently.
* Myunghon struggles with having to oppose their closest friends [[Miho Ijuuin]], [[Yua Ooshiro]] and [[Remi Ryuuja]], who have ties and masks behind the NWO.
* Myunghon found out they have a [[2025-07-25:_A_WILD_SISTER_HAS_APPEARED|half-sister]] in [[So-young Park]]!
* The Cardboard Dragon group helped take down the Emperor and Empress Full Moon Shadows, rescuing [[Fuuka Yamagishi]] in the process.
* The Cardboard Dragon group [[2025-08-15:_Scarface|helped take down Kaneshiro]], where they discovered that the Phantom Thieves of Hearts are also interested in Palaces.
* Myunghon is investigating the Kirijo Group on behalf of [[Yukari Takeba]].
* The Cardboard Dragon group is also taking on investigating Eiji's palace for [[Ichika Kawase]] and also the Atelier of Taro Nakata for [[Hazuki Nakao]].

=== No Longer Human Arc ===

* They met [[Tsumugi Kujaku]] at the Peacock Silk, who [[2025-08-12:_Are_You_Alive|wondered if they were alive or dead]], yet reminded them that intimacy was still something they felt.
* Following these instincts, they ask Shinobu to take them out to the arcade and conspire with Shinjiro to buy rock ticket concerts for them, and [[2025-09-09:_Where_Does_It_Stop|confessed their attraction]] to Shinobu, who couldn't return their feelings.
* With awkward tensions abound in the Cardboard Dragon, Myunghon is [[2025-09-24:_The_Best_of_All_Possible_Worlds|visited]] by Tsumugi after a long day and the two spend the night together despite their hesitations over the former's perspective on freedom and attachments.
* Myunghon ''instantly'' regrets this decision the next morning when Shinobu [[2025-09-25:_The_Morning_After|walks in on them]] asleep.

'''Next Objective:''' Reject Intimacy, Bottle Everything Up Again

=== The Food Arc ===

* Myunghon confessed that food tastes like ash to [[2025-08-07:_Tiny_Apartment_Confessional|Shinjiro]], [[2025-08-24:_Picky_Eaters|Yua]] and some other people and have no sense of taste or smell.
* They still don't want to give up on food. They asked Katsuya to [[2025-09-25:_Rise_of_the_Vampire_Baker|teach them how to bake]] so they can treat others.

'''Next Objective:''' Wait for the Blood Cravings to Hit

=== The Racist Cop Arc ===

* Myunghon is being repeatedly profiled and harrassed by a racist cop, Koichi Ishiba, and has had to be bailed out by [[Reiko Shimizu]] and [[Katsuya Suou]] on different occasions.
* The racist cop arc reached a climax when Koichi Ishiba [[2025-08-30: Otherside Picnic|gave them a concussion and a dislocated shoulder]] and sent them to the hospital.
* It's revealed Myunghon is traumatised and [[2025-08-31:_The_White_Room|terrified of hospitals]] which led Tsumugi to [[2025-09-03:_Why_Do_Birds_Fly|send them flying out their window]], which in turn made them the topic of a vampire that appeared at Hirasaka Hospital. Now they can't stay in the sun for long and probably have a blood craving too.
* They had to be convinced out of [[2025-09-02: Constants|giving Koichi Ishiba a Mental Shutdown]] following the above.
* They [[2025-09-13:_Like_a_Cardboard_Dragon:_Ishin!!|nearly got killed by their mother]], famous actress Suzie Park, when it was revealed she isn't happy with how they're running the Baengnyong and also how poorly they're handling being profiled by a racist cop. They're still terrified of her.

'''Next Objective:''' Remain Paralysed in Fear

=== Sidequests ===

* They [[2025-08-12: I Rolled A One|run a post-midnight tabletop group]] for Jack Frost and Pyro Jack.
* They worked hard to get [[Tsubasa Seki]] a binder at the Peacock Silk!! And then they befriended certified good dog Lance too.
* They agreed to let [[Hitomi Mandai]] run a tabletop game at the Cardboard Dragon.
* They found out they shared a passion over stuffing toy cars in their mouth with Pernelle.

= Persona =

'''Kudlak:''' Kudlak is a pitch-black humanoid figure in a large, fluttering cape that blends seamlessly with Myunghon's black cognitive coat. His limbs are similarly matte-dark, with the suggestion of a 17th century nobleman's attire towards his top. Though he barely has a face, crimson eyes peek out from behind silvered bangs.

= Skills =

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Intellect'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Superluminary
|Thinking. Overthinking. Overthinking so hard you're underthinking
|-
|Fin de Siecle
|Book Nerds. 1900's facts. Nostalgia.
|-
|A Fool's Life
|Rumourmongers. Hope. (Or that goal-shifting thing you call hope, anyway)
|-
|Commedia dell Arte
|Demon Negotiations. Cops that ask why you're floating in the river
|-
|}

== Psyche ==

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Psyche'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Koala March
|Lefties. Communists. Calories. UNCOOL FOR: Diabetics
|-
|Baengnyong
|Criminals. Pretend-criminals. Palaces
|-
|Jirai-kei
|Homoerotic Stabbings. Mouldy third floor dwellings
|-
|Communauté
|Not turning up to boss fights alone. Hirasaka
|-
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Physique'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|No Longer Human
|Faking it. Hurt/Comfort fics
|-
|Antiseptic
|You. UNCOOL FOR: Poison Control
|-
|White Room
|Lifting two boxes before you give up and call Shinobu
|-
|I Am A Cat
|Hittin da Bricks
|-
|}

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Motorics'''
|-
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Fish Eye
|Pretending you have depth perception
|-
|Magickque
|Skill Cards. Magicians. Being outsmarted by dogs
|-
|Преступленіе и наказаніе
|Rich people with deeply unrich brains
|-
|Stay Frosty
|KOOL FOR: Jack
|-
|}

= Relationships =

{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="3" | '''Reltionships'''
|-
!Name
!Skill
!Thought
|-
|'''Dettol''' (750ml bottle)
|★★★★★ ★★★★★
|Thou hast truly forged an inseparable bond. Where one goes, the other follows, wafting about on the winds. Forget the odd looks. They don't ''understand'' you and your whirlwind romance with corner store disinfectants.
|-
|[[Miho Ijuuin]]
|★★★
|There is an intimate promise that sabre-steel will penetrate into your flesh right to the hilt, until you spasm and quiver; "Just a little more," you say, until you can't hold your coronary arteries in any longer.
|-
|[[Yua Ooshiro]]
|★★★
|''Protect.'' It feels ''good'' to hear that from her, doesn't it? How long has it been since you last let yourself be ''vulnerable''? How long until it becomes a mistake again?
|-
|[[Remi Ryuuja]]
|★★★
|And this is the the third reason, isn't it? I have news, though: salary and blood are mutually exclusive, no matter how much you pretend it isn't.
|-
|[[Shinobu Shimizu]]
|★★★
|A cold, hard splash. Your lungs, full of chlorine, salt and blood. You can't breathe... she's taken your breath away.
|-
|[[Shinjiro Aragaki]]
|★★★
|You've ''really'' done it now. You let another one get close. His is your scent -- the scent of death and sacrifice. He won't betray you like the others... right?
|-
|[[Yukari Takeba]]
|★★
|If you need to know how hard it was for her to confide in you, just ''think'' about how hard it would be for Myorei Yukichi to have done the same thing.
|-
|[[Katsuya Suou]]
|★★
|The days of trite fun when he was your ''tsukkomi'' are over.
|-
|[[Mio Kazama]]
|★
|You have ''no idea'' what a V6 is. No matter what you do, don't pretend you do -- you're already ''the weird adult'' to this speed-demon.
|-
|[[Ulala Serizawa]]
|★
|A cold breeze stings your spine through the old windows and reminds you: ''Not everyone gets a friend as steadfast as that.''
|-
|[[Maya Amano]]
|★
|Your nerves are fire. She has spoken ''dangerwords,'' words that arouse both Mr. Fight and Mr. Flight into a homoerotic twist: is it possible that the Cardboard Dragon could be... ''cool''?
|-
|[[Hitomi Mandai]]
|★
|The human finger is slathered in a grotesque package of fat and dead skin cells. You believe this young woman understands that cards are more precious than fingers.
|-
|[[Suzume Fukura]]
|★
|Somewhere within the labyrinthine-complex of Stratum-4 is a triple-pack of Killers, but it is not even an obstacle to someone with eighth-bit mastery.
|-
|[[Yanagi Nagisa]]
|★
|It still stings, doesn't it? Long after she left, her mark still lingers in the store, telling you what could be, if only you believed more in life and the living.
|-
|[[Tsumugi Kujaku]]
|★
|You long ago swore an oath to me to make your facade ''invincible''. In Kujaku you see the you that actually succeeded at that. But there's more to it than that, isn't there?
|-
|[[So-young Park]]
|★
|You can either continue to wallow in this shallow jealousy of haves and have-nots, or you can band together with nuna and confront the common nemesis that is your mother.
|-
|[[Ayame Watanabe]]
|★
|Drowning. Drowning. Drowning. Your lungs, full of air... she has received the length of your measure. Snip.
|-
|[[Ikkaku Watanabe]]
|★
|You can lose blood. You can lose fingers. Your psyche can break. Koume shouldn't lose her father.
|-
|[[Ichika Kawase]]
|★
|Are you done talking to her in the language of eggshells? You messed up. There's no other way I can put it.
|-
|}

= Soundtrack =

* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPd-iAMktY8 Euthanasia] by Will Wood
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSm5gKlmw2M Spamton] by Toby Fox
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBB70hwxWec Choice] by Jack Stauber
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rAA-1LUI_M KIKIKAITAI] by Kanna Katata · MURASAKI
= Logs and Cutscenes =

==Season 1==

===Logs===
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Logs'''
|-
| <div style="column-count: 2;">
{{#dpl:
|category = logs&season 1
|linksto = {{PAGENAME}}
|ordermethod = title
|columns = 2
|rowcolformat=width=50%
|suppresserrors = yes
| addcategories = true
| mode = userformat
| format = ,,\n* [[%PAGE%]],
|noresultsheader=There are no logs on this wiki that {{PAGENAME}} participated in.
}}
| </div>
|-
|}

===Cutscenes===
{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" style="width:100%;"
|-
! style="background:{{{BGColor|#111111}}}; border: 2px {{{BorderColor|#444444}}} solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Cutscenes'''
|-
| <div style="column-count: 2;">
| {{#dpl:
|category = cutscenes&season 1
|linksto = {{PAGENAME}}
|ordermethod = title
|columns = 2
|rowcolformat=width=50%
|suppresserrors = yes
| addcategories = true
| mode = userformat
| format = ,,\n* [[%PAGE%]],
|noresultsheader=There are no cutscenes on this wiki that {{PAGENAME}} participated in.
}}
| </div>
|-
|}

[[Category:Characters]]
[[Category:Cardboard Dragon]]
[[Category:Focus]]

Myunghon Yeo

2025-11-14T08:45:40Z

Merilan:

{| class="toccolours" style="width: 15%; float: right; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align: left; font-size: %110" cellspacing="2"
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Myunghon Yeo'''
|-
! colspan="2" align="center" | [[File:Myunghon4.jpg|300px]]
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''IC Information'''
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Full Name:
| Myunghon Yeo 여 명혼 - Hanja: 麗明魂
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Tsumei:
| Myorei Yukichi - 諭吉明霊
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Arcana:
| Devil
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Pronouns:
| They/them
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Gender:
| 人間失格
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Age (Birthdate):
| 23 (May 23rd, 1993)
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Hair Colour:
| Ash-white
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Eye Colour:
| Gray, filmy
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Height:
| 175cm (5'9")
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Residence:
| The Cardboard Dragon, 3rd Floor
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Workplace:
| The Cardboard Dragon, 2nd Floor
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Job:
| Rumourmonger
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Role:
| Focus
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Persona:
| Kudlak
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''OOC Information'''
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Source:
| Persona 5 (OC)
|-
! style="text-align:left" |Voice Actor (JP):
| Sumire Uesaka
|-
! style="text-align:left" |Voice Actor (EN):
| Amber Lee Connors
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Groups:
| Cardboard Dragon
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Player:
| [[User:Merilan]]
|-
|}

'''"The higher I rose, the more I realised what I did disqualified me as a human being."'''

Myunghon Yeo -- Myorei Yukichi to most -- is the capricious, bohemian owner of the Cardboard Dragon, a dingy little book and card store in Hirasaka Ward, Sumaru City. However, the shop acts as a front for her true job as the leader of the Baengnyong, an information agency that employs a number of Zainichi Koreans, including those with darker backgrounds. In the evening, she is Rumourmonger Merry, selling rumours and tips to those willing to pay top price, possessing intel some believe she obtains through dark means. The truth is both plainer and stranger -- she spelunks the depths of the supernatural to acquire secrets and valuables from people's hearts. Despite her relatively young age, Myunghon possesses a prodigal history through the ladders of international corporations, which makes her betrayal as architect of the Great Surrender, which saw a large corporation fall during the Great Recession a few years back, baffling to those who believe she had a secure, comfortable future its wings.

= Background =
Ara ara...

==Season 1, Episode 1==

First seen performing Magic River Teleportation in the Hyakumanzeki Festival in Rengedai, Myunghon Yeo -- aka Rumourmonger Merry -- is an eccentric, bohemian individual on the surface concealing disaster and sorrow underneath that gentle masking. What have they gotten up to? Why...

=== MSQ: The Cardboard Dragon ===

* In June and July, Myunghon became fast friends with a number of Persona-Users, including [[Shinjiro Aragaki]], who came to them on the case of the Joker Killer, [[Shinobu Shimizu]] and [[Remi Ryuuja]], who works for the Cardboard Dragon, and [[Mio Kazama]], whose driving skills they rely on frequently.
* Myunghon struggles with having to oppose their closest friends [[Miho Ijuuin]], [[Yua Ooshiro]] and [[Remi Ryuuja]], who have ties and masks behind the NWO.
* Myunghon found out they have a [[2025-07-25:_A_WILD_SISTER_HAS_APPEARED|half-sister]] in [[So-young Park]]!
* The Cardboard Dragon group helped take down the Emperor and Empress Full Moon Shadows, rescuing [[Fuuka Yamagishi]] in the process.
* The Cardboard Dragon group [[2025-08-15:_Scarface|helped take down Kaneshiro]], where they discovered that the Phantom Thieves of Hearts are also interested in Palaces.
* Myunghon is investigating the Kirijo Group on behalf of [[Yukari Takeba]].
* The Cardboard Dragon group is also taking on investigating Eiji's palace for [[Ichika Kawase]] and also the Atelier of Taro Nakata for [[Hazuki Nakao]].

=== No Longer Human Arc ===

* They met [[Tsumugi Kujaku]] at the Peacock Silk, who [[2025-08-12:_Are_You_Alive|wondered if they were alive or dead]], yet reminded them that intimacy was still something they felt.
* Following these instincts, they ask Shinobu to take them out to the arcade and conspire with Shinjiro to buy rock ticket concerts for them, and [[2025-09-09:_Where_Does_It_Stop|confessed their attraction]] to Shinobu, who couldn't return their feelings.
* With awkward tensions abound in the Cardboard Dragon, Myunghon is [[2025-09-24:_The_Best_of_All_Possible_Worlds|visited]] by Tsumugi after a long day and the two spend the night together despite their hesitations over the former's perspective on freedom and attachments.
* Myunghon ''instantly'' regrets this decision the next morning when Shinobu [[2025-09-25:_The_Morning_After|walks in on them]] asleep.

'''Next Objective:''' Reject Intimacy, Bottle Everything Up Again

=== The Food Arc ===

* Myunghon confessed that food tastes like ash to [[2025-08-07:_Tiny_Apartment_Confessional|Shinjiro]], [[2025-08-24:_Picky_Eaters|Yua]] and some other people and have no sense of taste or smell.
* They still don't want to give up on food. They asked Katsuya to [[2025-09-25:_Rise_of_the_Vampire_Baker|teach them how to bake]] so they can treat others.

'''Next Objective:''' Wait for the Blood Cravings to Hit

=== The Racist Cop Arc ===

* Myunghon is being repeatedly profiled and harrassed by a racist cop, Koichi Ishiba, and has had to be bailed out by [[Reiko Shimizu]] and [[Katsuya Suou]] on different occasions.
* The racist cop arc reached a climax when Koichi Ishiba [[2025-08-30: Otherside Picnic|gave them a concussion and a dislocated shoulder]] and sent them to the hospital.
* It's revealed Myunghon is traumatised and [[2025-08-31:_The_White_Room|terrified of hospitals]] which led Tsumugi to [[2025-09-03:_Why_Do_Birds_Fly|send them flying out their window]], which in turn made them the topic of a vampire that appeared at Hirasaka Hospital. Now they can't stay in the sun for long and probably have a blood craving too.
* They had to be convinced out of [[2025-09-02: Constants|giving Koichi Ishiba a Mental Shutdown]] following the above.
* They [[2025-09-13:_Like_a_Cardboard_Dragon:_Ishin!!|nearly got killed by their mother]], famous actress Suzie Park, when it was revealed she isn't happy with how they're running the Baengnyong and also how poorly they're handling being profiled by a racist cop. They're still terrified of her.

'''Next Objective:''' Remain Paralysed in Fear

=== Sidequests ===

* They [[2025-08-12: I Rolled A One|run a post-midnight tabletop group]] for Jack Frost and Pyro Jack.
* They worked hard to get [[Tsubasa Seki]] a binder at the Peacock Silk!! And then they befriended certified good dog Lance too.
* They agreed to let [[Hitomi Mandai]] run a tabletop game at the Cardboard Dragon.
* They found out they shared a passion over stuffing toy cars in their mouth with Pernelle.

= Persona =

'''Kudlak:''' Kudlak is a pitch-black humanoid figure in a large, fluttering cape that blends seamlessly with Myunghon's black cognitive coat. His limbs are similarly matte-dark, with the suggestion of a 17th century nobleman's attire towards his top. Though he barely has a face, crimson eyes peek out from behind silvered bangs.

= Skills =

== Intellect ==

{| class="wikitable"
|+
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Superluminary
|Thinking. Overthinking. Overthinking so hard you're underthinking
|-
|Fin de Siecle
|Book Nerds. 1900's facts. Nostalgia.
|-
|A Fool's Life
|Rumourmongers. Hope. (Or that goal-shifting thing you call hope, anyway)
|-
|Commedia dell Arte
|Demon Negotiations. Cops that ask why you're floating in the river
|-
|}

== Psyche ==

{| class="wikitable"
|+
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Koala March
|Lefties. Communists. Calories. UNCOOL FOR: Diabetics
|-
|Baengnyong
|Criminals. Pretend-criminals. Palaces
|-
|Jirai-kei
|Homoerotic Stabbings. Mouldy third floor dwellings
|-
|Communauté
|Not turning up to boss fights alone. Hirasaka
|-
|}

== Physique ==

{| class="wikitable"
|+
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|No Longer Human
|Faking it. Hurt/Comfort fics
|-
|Antiseptic
|You. UNCOOL FOR: Poison Control
|-
|White Room
|Lifting two boxes before you give up and call Shinobu
|-
|I Am A Cat
|Hittin da Bricks
|-
|}

== Motorics ==

{| class="wikitable"
|+
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Fish Eye
|Pretending you have depth perception
|-
|Magickque
|Skill Cards. Magicians. Being outsmarted by dogs
|-
|Преступленіе и наказаніе
|Rich people with deeply unrich brains
|-
|Stay Frosty
|KOOL FOR: Jack
|-
|}

= Relationships =

{| class="wikitable"
|+
!Name
!Skill
!Thought
|-
|'''Dettol''' (750ml bottle)
|★★★★★ ★★★★★
|Thou hast truly forged an inseparable bond. Where one goes, the other follows, wafting about on the winds. Forget the odd looks. They don't ''understand'' you and your whirlwind romance with corner store disinfectants.
|-
|[[Miho Ijuuin]]
|★★★
|There is an intimate promise that sabre-steel will penetrate into your flesh right to the hilt, until you spasm and quiver; "Just a little more," you say, until you can't hold your coronary arteries in any longer.
|-
|[[Yua Ooshiro]]
|★★★
|''Protect.'' It feels ''good'' to hear that from her, doesn't it? How long has it been since you last let yourself be ''vulnerable''? How long until it becomes a mistake again?
|-
|[[Remi Ryuuja]]
|★★★
|And this is the the third reason, isn't it? I have news, though: salary and blood are mutually exclusive, no matter how much you pretend it isn't.
|-
|[[Shinobu Shimizu]]
|★★★
|A cold, hard splash. Your lungs, full of chlorine, salt and blood. You can't breathe... she's taken your breath away.
|-
|[[Shinjiro Aragaki]]
|★★★
|You've ''really'' done it now. You let another one get close. His is your scent -- the scent of death and sacrifice. He won't betray you like the others... right?
|-
|[[Yukari Takeba]]
|★★
|If you need to know how hard it was for her to confide in you, just ''think'' about how hard it would be for Myorei Yukichi to have done the same thing.
|-
|[[Katsuya Suou]]
|★★
|The days of trite fun when he was your ''tsukkomi'' are over.
|-
|[[Mio Kazama]]
|★
|You have ''no idea'' what a V6 is. No matter what you do, don't pretend you do -- you're already ''the weird adult'' to this speed-demon.
|-
|[[Ulala Serizawa]]
|★
|A cold breeze stings your spine through the old windows and reminds you: ''Not everyone gets a friend as steadfast as that.''
|-
|[[Maya Amano]]
|★
|Your nerves are fire. She has spoken ''dangerwords,'' words that arouse both Mr. Fight and Mr. Flight into a homoerotic twist: is it possible that the Cardboard Dragon could be... ''cool''?
|-
|[[Hitomi Mandai]]
|★
|The human finger is slathered in a grotesque package of fat and dead skin cells. You believe this young woman understands that cards are more precious than fingers.
|-
|[[Suzume Fukura]]
|★
|Somewhere within the labyrinthine-complex of Stratum-4 is a triple-pack of Killers, but it is not even an obstacle to someone with eighth-bit mastery.
|-
|[[Yanagi Nagisa]]
|★
|It still stings, doesn't it? Long after she left, her mark still lingers in the store, telling you what could be, if only you believed more in life and the living.
|-
|[[Tsumugi Kujaku]]
|★
|You long ago swore an oath to me to make your facade ''invincible''. In Kujaku you see the you that actually succeeded at that. But there's more to it than that, isn't there?
|-
|[[So-young Park]]
|★
|You can either continue to wallow in this shallow jealousy of haves and have-nots, or you can band together with nuna and confront the common nemesis that is your mother.
|-
|[[Ayame Watanabe]]
|★
|Drowning. Drowning. Drowning. Your lungs, full of air... she has received the length of your measure. Snip.
|-
|[[Ikkaku Watanabe]]
|★
|You can lose blood. You can lose fingers. Your psyche can break. Koume shouldn't lose her father.
|-
|[[Ichika Kawase]]
|★
|Are you done talking to her in the language of eggshells? You messed up. There's no other way I can put it.
|-
|
|
|
|}

= Soundtrack =

* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPd-iAMktY8 Euthanasia] by Will Wood
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSm5gKlmw2M Spamton] by Toby Fox
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBB70hwxWec Choice] by Jack Stauber
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rAA-1LUI_M KIKIKAITAI] by Kanna Katata · MURASAKI
= Logs and Cutscenes =

==Season 1==

===Logs===
<div style="column-count: 2;">
{{#dpl:
|category = logs&season 1
|linksto = {{PAGENAME}}
|ordermethod = title
|columns = 2
|rowcolformat=width=50%
|suppresserrors = yes
| addcategories = true
| mode = userformat
| format = ,,\n* [[%PAGE%]],
|noresultsheader=There are no logs on this wiki that {{PAGENAME}} participated in.
}}
</div>

===Cutscenes===
{{#dpl:
|category = cutscenes&season 1
|linksto = {{PAGENAME}}
|ordermethod = title
|columns = 2
|rowcolformat=width=50%
|suppresserrors = yes
| addcategories = true
| mode = userformat
| format = ,,\n* [[%PAGE%]],
|noresultsheader=There are no cutscenes on this wiki that {{PAGENAME}} participated in.
}}

[[Category:Characters]]
[[Category:Cardboard Dragon]]
[[Category:Focus]]

Myunghon Yeo

2025-11-14T08:42:11Z

Merilan:

{| class="toccolours" style="width: 15%; float: right; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align: left; font-size: %110" cellspacing="2"
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Myunghon Yeo'''
|-
! colspan="2" align="center" | [[File:Myunghon4.jpg|300px]]
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''IC Information'''
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Full Name:
| Myunghon Yeo 여 명혼 - Hanja: 麗明魂
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Tsumei:
| Myorei Yukichi - 諭吉明霊
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Arcana:
| Devil
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Pronouns:
| They/them
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Gender:
| 人間失格
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Age (Birthdate):
| 23 (May 23rd, 1993)
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Hair Colour:
| Ash-white
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Eye Colour:
| Gray, filmy
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Height:
| 175cm (5'9")
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Residence:
| The Cardboard Dragon, 3rd Floor
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Workplace:
| The Cardboard Dragon, 2nd Floor
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Job:
| Rumourmonger
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Role:
| Focus
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Persona:
| Kudlak
|-
! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''OOC Information'''
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Source:
| Persona 5 (OC)
|-
! style="text-align:left" |Voice Actor (JP):
| Sumire Uesaka
|-
! style="text-align:left" |Voice Actor (EN):
| Amber Lee Connors
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Groups:
| Cardboard Dragon
|-
! style="text-align:left" | Player:
| [[User:Merilan]]
|-
|}

'''"The higher I rose, the more I realised what I did disqualified me as a human being."'''

Myunghon Yeo -- Myorei Yukichi to most -- is the capricious, bohemian owner of the Cardboard Dragon, a dingy little book and card store in Hirasaka Ward, Sumaru City. However, the shop acts as a front for her true job as the leader of the Baengnyong, an information agency that employs a number of Zainichi Koreans, including those with darker backgrounds. In the evening, she is Rumourmonger Merry, selling rumours and tips to those willing to pay top price, possessing intel some believe she obtains through dark means. The truth is both plainer and stranger -- she spelunks the depths of the supernatural to acquire secrets and valuables from people's hearts. Despite her relatively young age, Myunghon possesses a prodigal history through the ladders of international corporations, which makes her betrayal as architect of the Great Surrender, which saw a large corporation fall during the Great Recession a few years back, baffling to those who believe she had a secure, comfortable future its wings.

= Background =
Ara ara...

==Season 1, Episode 1==

First seen performing Magic River Teleportation in the Hyakumanzeki Festival in Rengedai, Myunghon Yeo -- aka Rumourmonger Merry -- is an eccentric, bohemian individual on the surface concealing disaster and sorrow underneath that gentle masking. What have they gotten up to? Why...

=== MSQ: The Cardboard Dragon ===

* In June and July, Myunghon became fast friends with a number of Persona-Users, including [[Shinjiro Aragaki]], who came to them on the case of the Joker Killer, [[Shinobu Shimizu]] and [[Remi Ryuuja]], who works for the Cardboard Dragon, and [[Mio Kazama]], whose driving skills they rely on frequently.
* Myunghon struggles with having to oppose their closest friends [[Miho Ijuuin]], [[Yua Ooshiro]] and [[Remi Ryuuja]], who have ties and masks behind the NWO.
* Myunghon found out they have a [[2025-07-25:_A_WILD_SISTER_HAS_APPEARED|half-sister]] in [[So-young Park]]!
* The Cardboard Dragon group helped take down the Emperor and Empress Full Moon Shadows, rescuing [[Fuuka Yamagishi]] in the process.
* The Cardboard Dragon group [[2025-08-15:_Scarface|helped take down Kaneshiro]], where they discovered that the Phantom Thieves of Hearts are also interested in Palaces.
* Myunghon is investigating the Kirijo Group on behalf of [[Yukari Takeba]].
* The Cardboard Dragon group is also taking on investigating Eiji's palace for [[Ichika Kawase]] and also the Atelier of Taro Nakata for [[Hazuki Nakao]].

=== No Longer Human Arc ===

* They met [[Tsumugi Kujaku]] at the Peacock Silk, who [[2025-08-12:_Are_You_Alive|wondered if they were alive or dead]], yet reminded them that intimacy was still something they felt.
* Following these instincts, they ask Shinobu to take them out to the arcade and conspire with Shinjiro to buy rock ticket concerts for them, and [[2025-09-09:_Where_Does_It_Stop|confessed their attraction]] to Shinobu, who couldn't return their feelings.
* With awkward tensions abound in the Cardboard Dragon, Myunghon is [[2025-09-24:_The_Best_of_All_Possible_Worlds|visited]] by Tsumugi after a long day and the two spend the night together despite their hesitations over the former's perspective on freedom and attachments.
* Myunghon ''instantly'' regrets this decision the next morning when Shinobu [[2025-09-25:_The_Morning_After|walks in on them]] asleep.

'''Next Objective:''' Reject Intimacy, Bottle Everything Up Again

=== The Food Arc ===

* Myunghon confessed that food tastes like ash to [[2025-08-07:_Tiny_Apartment_Confessional|Shinjiro]], [[2025-08-24:_Picky_Eaters|Yua]] and some other people and have no sense of taste or smell.
* They still don't want to give up on food. They asked Katsuya to [[2025-09-25:_Rise_of_the_Vampire_Baker|teach them how to bake]] so they can treat others.

'''Next Objective:''' Wait for the Blood Cravings to Hit

=== The Racist Cop Arc ===

* Myunghon is being repeatedly profiled and harrassed by a racist cop, Koichi Ishiba, and has had to be bailed out by [[Reiko Shimizu]] and [[Katsuya Suou]] on different occasions.
* The racist cop arc reached a climax when Koichi Ishiba [[2025-08-30: Otherside Picnic|gave them a concussion and a dislocated shoulder]] and sent them to the hospital.
* It's revealed Myunghon is traumatised and [[2025-08-31:_The_White_Room|terrified of hospitals]] which led Tsumugi to [[2025-09-03:_Why_Do_Birds_Fly|send them flying out their window]], which in turn made them the topic of a vampire that appeared at Hirasaka Hospital. Now they can't stay in the sun for long and probably have a blood craving too.
* They had to be convinced out of [[2025-09-02: Constants|giving Koichi Ishiba a Mental Shutdown]] following the above.
* They [[2025-09-13:_Like_a_Cardboard_Dragon:_Ishin!!|nearly got killed by their mother]], famous actress Suzie Park, when it was revealed she isn't happy with how they're running the Baengnyong and also how poorly they're handling being profiled by a racist cop. They're still terrified of her.

'''Next Objective:''' Remain Paralysed in Fear

=== Sidequests ===

* They [[2025-08-12: I Rolled A One|run a post-midnight tabletop group]] for Jack Frost and Pyro Jack.
* They worked hard to get [[Tsubasa Seki]] a binder at the Peacock Silk!! And then they befriended certified good dog Lance too.
* They agreed to let [[Hitomi Mandai]] run a tabletop game at the Cardboard Dragon.
* They found out they shared a passion over stuffing toy cars in their mouth with Pernelle.

= Persona =

'''Kudlak:''' Kudlak is a pitch-black humanoid figure in a large, fluttering cape that blends seamlessly with Myunghon's black cognitive coat. His limbs are similarly matte-dark, with the suggestion of a 17th century nobleman's attire towards his top. Though he barely has a face, crimson eyes peek out from behind silvered bangs.

= Skills =

== Intellect ==

{| class="wikitable"
|+
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Superluminary
|Thinking. Overthinking. Overthinking so hard you're underthinking
|-
|Fin de Siecle
|Book Nerds. 1900's facts. Nostalgia.
|-
|A Fool's Life
|Rumourmongers. Hope. (Or that goal-shifting thing you call hope, anyway)
|-
|Commedia dell Arte
|Demon Negotiations. Cops that ask why you're floating in the river
|-
|}

== Psyche ==

{| class="wikitable"
|+
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Koala March
|Lefties. Communists. Calories. UNCOOL FOR: Diabetics
|-
|Baengnyong
|Criminals. Pretend-criminals. Palaces
|-
|Jirai-kei
|Homoerotic Stabbings. Mouldy third floor dwellings
|-
|Communauté
|Not turning up to boss fights alone. Hirasaka
|-
|}

== Physique ==

{| class="wikitable"
|+
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|No Longer Human
|Faking it. Hurt/Comfort fics
|-
|Antiseptic
|You. UNCOOL FOR: Poison Control
|-
|White Room
|Lifting two boxes before you give up and call Shinobu
|-
|I Am A Cat
|Hittin da Bricks
|-
|}

== Motorics ==

{| class="wikitable"
|+
!Name
!COOL FOR:
|-
|Fish Eye
|Pretending you have depth perception
|-
|Magickque
|Skill Cards. Magicians. Being outsmarted by dogs
|-
|Преступленіе и наказаніе
|Rich people with deeply unrich brains
|-
|Stay Frosty
|KOOL FOR: Jack
|-
|}

= Relationships =

{| class="wikitable"
|+
!Name
!Skill
!Thought
|-
|'''Dettol''' (750ml bottle)
|★★★★★ ★★★★★
|Thou hast truly forged an inseparable bond. Where one goes, the other follows, wafting about on the winds. Forget the odd looks. They don't ''understand'' you and your whirlwind romance with corner store disinfectants.
|-
|[[Miho Ijuuin]]
|★★★
|There is an intimate promise that sabre-steel will penetrate into your flesh right to the hilt, until you spasm and quiver; "Just a little more," you say, until you can't hold your coronary arteries in any longer.
|-
|[[Yua Ooshiro]]
|★★★
|''Protect.'' It feels ''good'' to hear that from her, doesn't it? How long has it been since you last let yourself be ''vulnerable''? How long until it becomes a mistake again?
|-
|[[Remi Ryuuja]]
|★★★
|And this is the the third reason, isn't it? I have news, though: salary and blood are mutually exclusive, no matter how much you pretend it isn't.
|-
|[[Shinobu Shimizu]]
|★★★
|A cold, hard splash. Your lungs, full of chlorine, salt and blood. You can't breathe... she's taken your breath away.
|-
|[[Shinjiro Aragaki]]
|★★★
|You've ''really'' done it now. You let another one get close. His is your scent -- the scent of death and sacrifice. He won't betray you like the others... right?
|-
|[[Yukari Takeba]]
|★★
|If you need to know how hard it was for her to confide in you, just ''think'' about how hard it would be for Myorei Yukichi to have done the same thing.
|-
|[[Katsuya Suou]]
|★★
|The days of trite fun when he was your ''tsukkomi'' are over.
|-
|[[Mio Kazama]]
|★
|You have ''no idea'' what a V6 is. No matter what you do, don't pretend you do -- you're already ''the weird adult'' to this speed-demon.
|-
|[[Ulala Serizawa]]
|★
|A cold breeze stings your spine through the old windows and reminds you: ''Not everyone gets a friend as steadfast as that.''
|-
|[[Maya Amano]]
|★
|Your nerves are fire. She has spoken ''dangerwords,'' words that arouse both Mr. Fight and Mr. Flight into a homoerotic twist: is it possible that the Cardboard Dragon could be... ''cool''?
|-
|[[Hitomi Mandai]]
|★
|The human finger is slathered in a grotesque package of fat and dead skin cells. You believe this young woman understands that cards are more precious than fingers.
|-
|[[Suzume Fukura]]
|★
|Somewhere within the labyrinthine-complex of Stratum-4 is a triple-pack of Killers, but it is not even an obstacle to someone with eighth-bit mastery.
|-
|[[Yanagi Nagisa]]
|★
|It still stings, doesn't it? Long after she left, her mark still lingers in the store, telling you what could be, if only you believed more in life and the living.
|-
|[[Tsumugi Kujaku]]
|★
|You long ago swore an oath to me to make your facade ''invincible''. In Kujaku you see the you that actually succeeded at that. But there's more to it than that, isn't there?
|-
|[[So-young Park]]
|★
|You can either continue to wallow in this shallow jealousy of haves and have-nots, or you can band together with nuna and confront the common nemesis that is your mother.
|-
|[[Ayame Watanabe]]
|★
|Drowning. Drowning. Drowning. Your lungs, full of air... she has received the length of your measure. Snip.
|-
|[[Ikkaku Watanabe]]
|★
|You can lose blood. You can lose fingers. Your psyche can break. Koume shouldn't lose her father.
|-
|[[Ichika Kawase]]
|★
|Are you done talking to her in the language of eggshells? You messed up. There's no other way I can put it.
|-
|
|
|
|}

= Soundtrack =

* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPd-iAMktY8 Euthanasia] by Will Wood
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSm5gKlmw2M Spamton] by Toby Fox
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBB70hwxWec Choice] by Jack Stauber
* [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rAA-1LUI_M KIKIKAITAI] by Kanna Katata · MURASAKI
= Logs and Cutscenes =

==Season 1==

===Logs===
{{#dpl:
|category = logs&season 1
|linksto = {{PAGENAME}}
|ordermethod = title
|columns = 2
|rowcolformat=width=50%
|suppresserrors = yes
| addcategories = true
| mode = userformat
| format = ,,\n* [[%PAGE%]],
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===Cutscenes===
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[[Category:Characters]]
[[Category:Cardboard Dragon]]
[[Category:Focus]]

Ruzica Crvena

2025-11-14T08:41:54Z

Merilan:

Ruzica Crvena

2025-11-12T09:43:32Z

Merilan:

2025-11-09: Start Dash

2025-11-12T07:31:03Z

Merilan: Merilan moved page 2025-11-09: Start Dash to 2025-11-11: Start Dash

#REDIRECT [[2025-11-11: Start Dash]]

2025-11-11: Start Dash

2025-11-12T07:31:03Z

Merilan: Merilan moved page 2025-11-09: Start Dash to 2025-11-11: Start Dash

*'''Log: Start Dash'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Ryuzaki Kurama]], [[Ryuji Sakamoto]]
*'''Where:''' Shujin Academy, Track and Field Courtyard
*'''OOC Date:''' November 11, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 09, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Ryuji meets a boy with a keen interest in running, Ryuzaki, during the Shujin summer break. Ryuzaki knows him from the track team gossip, but the two talk about their shared interest in track, and at the end, they trade numbers to push each other towards their goals.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Shujin Academy has permissions to allow its students use of the facility grounds during the summer holiday. One student that's taken a lot of advantage out of this is Ryuzaki Kurama, a quiet, phlegmatic second-year student from class 2-A. A small boy of few words and an unsettling stare with his golden eyes peeking out of his jet-black bangs, he's put off a few of the more gossiping girls even with his pretty looks, which have themself been gossip in other ways.

Today, on an overcast Thursday, Ryuzaki is in his red and white Shujin tracksuit as he does practice.

... his baker boy hat is also still on, which looks kind of goofy with the red suit...

It's endurance training today, and Ryuzaki's form is pretty damn good -- he's clearly watching his posture so as to not injure himself for the long run, and he's carrying a stopwatch on his hand since he doesn't have a spotter. He's been at this a while and is breaking up a good sweat...!!
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuji Sakamoto has posed.
<poem>Summer Break has been eventful. Too eventful for Ryuji to keep up with his training as he would've liked. No this was the first time in days that he was going to try to do a little jogging. His leg might hurt a little but that was something Ryuji was going to push through...if he could manage it.

Rather than go to Protein Lovers, Ryuji is going to head to Shujin today. For one thing, it was cheaper. For another, the people who would yell at Ryuji for using the facilities are likely not there today. So why not? Put on your lightest t-shirt and shorts and lets go!

All is going according to plan until Ryuji spots the dark haired kid in track gear. The blonde blinks, walking over to the 'new person'. "Woah...Haven't seen you before. You trying to do a competition or something?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki comes to a soft stop and continues to pace in position for a while when Ryuji rocks up, just so that his leg muscles aren't going to suddenly seize up. The tracksuit must be pretty damn warm in summer. "Oh... good afternoon," says the dark-haired kid softly, his big golden eyes piercingly gazing at Ryuji for a moment longer. "A competition...?" A pause. "I haven't thought about it... but this track is pretty nice."

There's a pause, as Ryuzaki adjusts his hat slowly, trying to not get it too sweaty, as he starts to do some light stretching, keeping his eye contact. "I'm... Ryuzaki Kurama from class 2-A. I think I've seen you around once or twice..." he ruminates with little seeming emotion.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuji Sakamoto has posed.
<poem>"Oh hey. Ryuji Sakamoto from 2-E. What's bonkin' man?" Ryuji grins but keeps his hands in his pockets for the moment, looking this guy over. He takes special notice of the golden eyes, noting that down as kind of weird but not scary weird.

"Yeah the track is nice. Used to be used more but...some stuff happened and the track team got axed." He leaves a lot of the story out. Mostly to see if this guy was going to accuse him of destroying the track team. And if for some reason Ryuzaki doesn't know why Ryuji is a bad bad man, he doesn't really need to change this fact.

"So endurance training? Just for fun then? Kick ass. I'd join you but I'm a little rusty so I'm not ready for that just yet."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki is definitely smaller than your average young man. The tracksuit's a bit baggy as well, as if chosen to conceal their figure. He leans over to do some stretches while Ryuji asks him what's bonkin'. "Bonk...?" he repeats, staring off into the distance as if having been asked something life-pervasive and critical. "Ryuji Sakamoto..." comes the murmur, just above sotto voce, like Ryuzaki has to commit it to memory.

Stuff happened -- and the track team got axed. "... I only came in April," Ryuzaki admits, "and the track team was already gone by then... they were all saying..." A pause, as he doesn't finish that sentence, but 'you did it' is clearly on their lips.

A longer pause, as they put their hands behind their back and leans forward a bit, eyes looking up at the taller Ryuji. "... I don't need a track team, though. I just... want to run. I have someone... to catch up to."

Ryuji admits that he's rusty -- and not ready for that just yet. A quiet frown, as he thinks about the ramifications of that sentence. "Did he... hurt you, back then?" The 'he' is also fairly clear in this context -- Kamoshida.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuji Sakamoto has posed.
<poem>There it is. Ryuji knew something like that was coming. "Oh yeah. They say stuff like that. Kinda wish they'd not pull the ear of every new student coming in but they aren't wrong." He sighs, finally rubbing the back of his neck as he contemplates everything that happened between him and the track team. It almost felt like another life considering on how those guys were out to get him.

Still this guy doesn't seem that bad. Ryuji notes how the track suit fills out, letting his mind sort of evaluate Ryuzaki's physique. "Someone to catch up to? Oh dude you got a Sports rival like in one of those manga? That's kinda kick ass."

Ryuzaki's next question is what shakes him however. Ryuji isn't mad but he suddenly feels very seen. His limp. His physical state. All of it was because of the time spent with Kamoshida. "Yeah...He did." Ryuji says distantly, wondering if the track team told this guy everything about him.

"So where did you transfer from?" Ryuji asks quickly, trying to change the subject of his injury.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
The animosity of the track team has been... hard to ignore, as it were. "... the moment I said I liked running, they pulled me aside with the gossip."

Ryuzaki typically doesn't want to stand out, but the way in which troublemakers and outsiders get funneled away was certainly impressive in this school compared to others he's been to.... some of the students seem like their primary activity is gossiping and spreading rumours, which isn't necessarily an unusual teen activity, but... there's certainly some truth in how important one's image is here.

Ryuji's eyes on him in turn has him shifting uncomfortably a bit, tugging the side of his pants out a little bit more. Ryuzaki's physique is... slight, really, even with the baggy tracksuit. This isn't the body of someone who's cultivated the physique of an athlete. Which is a bit curious given how they seem to have everything else togeher.

Ryuji asks if it's like a sports rival, like someone in manga. "... sort of," is all Ryuzaki admits, sounding a bit haunted. "They've run ahead of me..."

But it seems like Ryuzaki isn't the only one a little discomforted by his physique -- his question about who hurt him has Ryuji on the back foot too about his physical state. There's a quiet nod... but Ryuzaki seems to pick up on the cue that Ryuji wants to move on.

"I was living in France for a bit with my nephews, in a small suburb in Nice," Ryuzaki softly explains. For someone who's been abroad, his Japanese is pretty spot-on.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuji Sakamoto has posed.
<poem>"Yeah. That's how they are. Always out to kick me in the ass." Ryuji sighs deeply, silently resigning himself to the fact that the track team is always going to be out to destroy him. It is how it is.

Upon getting an impression of Ryuzaki's build, the blonde is a little concerned? How was this guy going to do intense training with a body like that. Still, Ryuji is unsure on how to broach the topic. Maybe it was one of those it isn't as bad as it looks?

Huh. Ryuzaki looks...shellshocked about a sports rival. The blonde punk blinks as he gets more weirdness for this guy. "I mean yeah but that doesn't mean you can't catch up?"

"Nice? There's a place called Nice?" Ryuji blinks before his mind comes up with a nice little pun. "Is it nice there?" He grins, wondering if this is going to be the thing to make Ryuzaki look more comfortable.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
"... hmmm. Well..." Ryuzaki quietly ruminates, then does offer, "... I mostly ignored them." Is that the best that he can do to reassure Ryuji? He hasn't really broken his expressionless expression once in this entire conversation, but the softness of the voice is perhaps fitting for an attempt to reassure.

Still, even though Ryuzaki's physique doesn't seem too well-suited to their goals, they express of this mysterious rival of theirs: "You're right. ... I will catch up, one day. That's... what they wanted from me, after all. Thank you, Ryuji Sakamoto." A pause, as they seem to notice that that's a weird way to call someone, and glances away on that perceived faux pas.

There's a place called Nice? "Yes, on the coast of the southeast of France..."

Is it nice there?

Ryuzaki pauses, suddenly with a flash of insight at the joke, and then he's racking his mind internally, trying to recall what it is they have to answer. "Sixty... sixty eight?"

SO CLOSE.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuji Sakamoto has posed.
<poem>"Ah...Well thanks for that." Ryuji nods, smiling awkwardly as he takes in Ryuzaki's expressionlessness.

"I mean you're motivated for sure but you got a ways to go I think." Ryuji cups a hand under his chin. "Uhhh thanks?" He isn't sure what to make of being called by his full name like that. Still, Ryuzaki seems sorry about it so how could Ryuji of all people care?

"France? I wonder if Ann has been there." He says to himself mostly just as Ryuzaki is reactioning to Ryuji's 'nice' joke. AND IT IS....So close.

Ryuji just kinda stares at his reaction. 68?! Was this not a thing in France? Man, that place was kinda a pit if so. "Uh...close enough I guess. So, what are you focused on today. Just Endurance? Mind letting me see your running again?"

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Internally, you just know there's a mind-Ryuzaki that's just screaming and slamming both his fists down on their mind-table at not quite landing the joke, like it didn't all go according to keikaku. They were SO CLOSE! It was going to be... Nice. People were going to laugh. He was going to succeed at telling a joke!!! Aaaargh!!

This is not, in any way, reflected in Ryuzaki's face.

Still, it seems like Ryuji's a little discomfited... especially since he's still falling back on that tic of using full names. "I know," they say of having a ways to go. "I can improve my technique and pre- and post-run routines... but physique matters a lot in running." They sound a little bothered by it, enough that it crests past that surface of deadpan-ness.

But the main way to improve one's physique is to train more!

Ryuji does ask if he can watch. "Endurance today, yes... I haven't found a good hill to do incline training yet... do you know of any... Sakamoto-san? And then, I do a long run on the weekend," they explain, just a little more animated as they explain some of their current struggles with their training plan. But Ryuji did ask to see -- so they begin again, around the track.

And Ryuzaki does seem serious about this -- he's mindful to not run too fast and tire themselves out or injure himself, keeping his form maintained throughout as he turns around the bend. Their physique definitely is holding them back... but they don't seem like a novice.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuji Sakamoto has posed.
<poem>Ryuji watches Ryuzaki move along the track. His mind is working as he analyzes this guy's form, endurance, pace, etc. Finally after taking it all in, Ryuji nods to the guy's own words. "Yeah, running is pretty taxing so you need to have a little bit of lean muscle mass to make everything go well. That seems to be what your missing. I think you need to get some protein in your diet as well as some light weight training to build yourself up."

"Oh yeah. I know a few good hills. You can also see if you can find a gym with a stair machine if the weather sucks." Ryuji grins and nods, finding a place to lean because he's a teenage with terrible posture.

"Honestly, I think you can beat this guy in less than a year if you really pushed yourself. You need muscle but not anything drastic. Your form is good. You are pacing yourself good. It's just your lack of muscle thats going to be a fact. Before you freak out, I'm not talking about body building here.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki turns to head back to Ryuji after finishing his lap again, once again careful to keep himself from sudden stops. Ryuji's assessment is a keen-eyed one -- he's lacking the muscle mass to really feed his body the power it needs. Some protein, and lightweight training to build himself up...

"... you're... really good at this," Ryuzaki observes with a nod. Ryuji's also got the lay of the land -- and the idea of a gym certainly is a good one too. "Hmm... I don't have that much money for a membership... perhaps I'll ask mom if she can help with that."

Ryuji's got the optimistic outlook -- Ryuzaki can beat his rival if he really pushed himself. His form's good, his pace is good... he's just got to bulk up a little. "... thank you, Sakamoto-san. This was really good advice."

A pause as Ryuzaki seems to be contemplating something, and then he quietly slips his phone out -- it's an older model, and has a cute, fat chicken keychain on it, not dissimilar to the one on the pin on his hat. This guy loves chickens, huh...? "Is it okay if we... trade phone numbers, Sakamoto-san? I wouldn't... mind hanging out sometime. And maybe, when you're feeling more up to it..."

There's something a bit more earnest in their voice, finally. "... maybe we can train together."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuji Sakamoto has posed.
<poem>"I mean I try..." He laughs nervously, trying not to let the praise go to his head. "Anyway I'll look up a meal plan if you need help. I don't know everything but the internet can be pretty useful for stuff like this. Ryuji justs his stance, smiling as he thinks about this. It was good to helping someone with track again.

It almost felt nostalgic.

"No problem. I mean I might be off on the time table but you got a lot of potential." He blinks when he sees the giant chicken charm and phone. The phone was understandable since Ryuji's phone kinda sucked too. Being poor sucks, dude. Anyway, this guy was pretty interesting. It was a wonder why Ryuji hadn't heard anything about this guy.

Still Ryuzaki seemed like nice enough guy. Quickly, Ryuji takes out his phone and exchanges numbers. "Hell yeah dude. Lets push each other in our goals! I got a friend who might join us too. We work out sometimes."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ryuzaki Kurama has posed.
<poem>
Ryuzaki is a bit of a chameleon in class, and also has the mysterious and powerful property of not existing until just a few weeks ago, ho ho!! No, they really almost take cautions to not stand out overmuch, and spend most of his time just observing and watching from the sidelines. There's people with far more gossip in his own class, like Isabeau Fontaine or Kanae Fuyuki... and that, in its own way, is a very useful thing indeed.

"A meal plan... yes, that sounds good," Ryuzaki pauses, with a nod. Oh no... will burger time be put at risk?! (Or perhaps Ryuji will be drawn into the inevitable vortex of the Big Bang Burger challenge.)

They trade numbers easily enough, with Ryuzaki sending a test message just to make sure they have it right. When Ryuji affirms a desire to push each other in their goals, there's a ghost of a smile just for a second. Hey, this guy does have it in him to smile. A bit. "A friend? Yeah... that would be good."

He puts his phone away, and looks up towards the skies. "... I think I should wrap it up here. It smells like it might rain soon. I've got a part time job to get to... but it was good to meet you, Sakamoto-san."

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-11: Clean and Casual

2025-11-12T07:30:48Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: Clean and Casual''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Shinobu Shimizu *'''Where:''' *'''OOC Date:''' November 11, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 09, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Myunghon invites Shinobu to help clean the Cardboard Dragon but ends up doing most of it themself in a fit of nervous panic. They work through their anxiety to start to talk about their new relationship.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> Myunghon's been having a str..."

*'''Log: Clean and Casual'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Shinobu Shimizu]]
*'''Where:'''
*'''OOC Date:''' November 11, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 09, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Myunghon invites Shinobu to help clean the Cardboard Dragon but ends up doing most of it themself in a fit of nervous panic. They work through their anxiety to start to talk about their new relationship.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon's been having a stressful couple of days, with the mission with Rin Sasaki not going particularly well -- they've come home to do their particular stretch of cleaning as they often do offscreen -- yes, miraculously, they're actually really fastidious with the place, even though it's a kind of laborious thing to do on their own... ... which is why they're not on their own!

Myunghon's asked if Shinobu's free to help with the cleaning, and suggested they could go for dinner for a treat. And... they also said they wanted to talk a bit more about -- about them, and where she'd like to go next. ... and then of course they immediately fretted the choice of 'hey wanna come clean the store AND talk about relationships'???

Doing garbage at this, Myunghon!!

So by the time Shinobu arrives, the place is mysteriously looking mostly spotless and Myunghon looks like they've gone through their entire gas tank and then some, panting a little as they climb down the new and improved non-treacherous stepladder (thanks to Shinobu), their hair tied back with a bandana and the jacket missing in favour of just rolling their sleeves up.

"Oh, welcome, Shinobu-ssi..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Shinobu is always free to help with chores, that's one thing that can be counted on. It's the one thing she she considers herself good at because it doesn't require so much 'hard thinking' as it does 'willingness to put the elbow grease in'. So, naturally, when Myunghon asked for her help in return for dinner and talking about Them, she naturally agrees.

But when she arrives...

...The place is already spotless...?

Shinobu offers Myunghon a raised eyebrow as she looks their way, shutting the door behind her.

"Thanks. Uhh... Did you get started without me?" She asks. "You didn't have to do all that..."

She takes another look. They look... super winded.

"...You doing alright?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon looks bashful and embarrassed by the time Shinobu enters, and starts packing away the stepladder with a little wince, dragging it back towards its typical corner. "I-- ah, I became nervous and had a lot of energy to burn and rather than sit and wait, I became a whirlwind of activity."

They take a deeper breath as they pull a nearby towel to wipe themself down, which is actually awkward when half your body is in bandages and also sweating is also not an activity that's particularly straightforward when SO MUCH OF YOUR SKIN is fucked up, actually, under those bandages. It's weird. Bodies are weird. Personas have it so easy.

"I haven't quite finished with the shelves yet... and there are some heavy items that I do need help with," Myunghon does admit. "How... how are you faring?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Shinobu starts to ask if they need help putting the stepladder away - but by the time she has, they already have it almost taken care of. They had a lot of nervous energy to burn, huh... Shinobu massages the back of her neck.

"...Yeah, I get what that's like." She admits sympathetically - but she nods, when they say there's still shelves and some heavy lifting to do. Shinobu cracks her knuckles and rolls her neck. "Alright, then lemme at 'em."

She starts toward the shelves, though pauses when they ask how she's doing.

"I'm doin' alright." Shinobu replies. She ''sounds'' like it, at least. "Just had a lot to think about, is all. ...How about you?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It doesn't take long for the heavy boxes to be moved where they need to, and a short moment of elbow grease later, it's all done. "... ah-- the same, I suppose. Maybe not for all the same reasons. Our meeting with our ghosts certainly had me considering a lot," Myunghon means the Phantom Thieves, "And I had some thoughts to share regarding them... actually shared them with Shinjiro-ssi and nuna, before he left. And... and, well, there's us too, of course."

A pause, as they tilt their head and gestures towards the couch. "Do you want any tea and cookies? There's some leftover from the last batch. The least I can do."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>''This'' is where Shinobu excels. Between the two of them, the boxes are soon where they need to be. Shinobu leans against the last one as Myunghon replies. They've been doing a lot of thinking too, huh... Well, that isn't ''too'' surprising.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them, too." She replies - and nods. "Yeah. And us."

She steps away from the box, then, and nods.

"Sure, that'd be great." She confirms, moving to settle in on the couch.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"It's always so much easier to have you around," Myunghon sounds very pleased when Shinobu starts helping, mentally kicking themself into probably injuring themself exacerbating their wounded arms trying to move even remotely heavy boxes themself. "I do know I do not do enough rehab for my arms... but it is so, so very painful." Shinobu does agree to tea and cookies, so it's not long before they start the kettle...

Later on, they've moved to the couch again and put the AC on a cooler setting to make themselves a bit more comfortable. It's the checkerboard cookies again, but this time there's some star- and heart-shaped cookies to go with it.

"Do you want to start with them... or us?" A pause, as they twiddle their fingers gently.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>"That's what I'm here for." Shinobu replies brightly, with a quick, one-armed flex. It's just a bit - it's not like you can see muscle through the sleeve of her jacket. She offers them a sympathetic look, now.

"I know, but it'll help. It's good for you, y'know? Lemme know if you need any help with that." She replies.

Settled into the couch, now, she takes one of the cookies, giving it a taste-test.

"Pretty good." She observes approvingly, before considering the question.

Start with them, or us...?

...It's... a very tricky question.

"...Sounds like you've already been thinking about our ghosts, so maybe them?" Shinobu considers.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Shinobu does a bit of a flex and Myunghon thinks they might just DIE. It's not whether or not they can see muscle, it's just TOO CUTE. They do offer help with rehab, though... "Y-yeah... I do think I do need to do it. I've already missed my windows... they say that you need to do it before your muscles heal the wrong way," they admit.

But Shinobu says the cookies are nice.

"Hmmm. I'm very glad," Myunghon does exhibit some nervousness in their body language still, as they natter, "I may start bargain-hunting for a stand mixer sometime, because that seems to be a tool that would let me do a lot that I do not have the upper-body strength..." Which does dovetail right back to rehab, does it...

"R-right, well... the thing with the ghosts is..." Myunghon hesitates further. About four stiff and palpably painful seconds pass.

"S-should I stop seeing Tsumugi?" is what they blurt out of their mouth instead, and then that's instantly followed up with flailing as they stammer, "W-wait, that's not-- I mean--" Oh, yeah, that was what was entirely on their brain this whole time, huh.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>"Yeah... You wanna do it early." Shinobu confirms with a nod. "I don't think it's ''too late'', but... it gets harder and harder if you put it off too long."

She smiles, as Myunghon's glad the cookies turned out, and nods when they mention bargain-hunting.

"Good idea. I'll keep an ear out, too. If I hear about anyone looking to off-load one, I can send 'em your way." Shinobu offers.

Myunghon starts, then - and hesitates. Shinobu leans back. She doesn't mind giving them time to work through their thoughts, and when they finally get there -

"Wh- Uh..." Shinobu starts, taken ''completely'' by surprise as Myunghon blurts out that question. She... ''definitely'' didn't expect that, and for a moment wonders if they had just been accidentally talking past one another...

She massages the back of her neck as she works through her thoughts, having to mentally course correct. She hadn't really thought about it already - but the question has definitely been on ''their'' mind, even as they stammer to take it back.

"Do you... ''want'' to keep seeing them?" Shinobu asks, looking toward Myunghon. "'Cause, I mean... I still think they're pretty suspicious, but... I can't tell you who you can or can't see."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
All thoughts about rehab and stand mixers go out the window and thus Myunghon can put off their recovery longer. Why did they start with that question?!?!?! Shinobu's put on the back foot now too, as Myunghon positively shrinks to about ninety percent of their usual volume and hides behind their barely-tea to regain them several precious seconds of thinking-time.

Shinobu responds with a question in turn, though, and Myunghon pouts a bit. They did expect the question-in-turn, but perhaps they were hoping for something decisive. "W-well-- can you not? I know we spoke of--" A pause. "No, perhaps the place to start with is... you spoke of how you preferred a casual relationship, but I was not certain if that was what you still desired. That is... what I look for out of Tsumugi is not really... what I think makes me quite fond of you -- that sense of stability and support and the way you're always there when I really need someone to lean on..."

Wow. Words! Words are terrible and hard. They still feel like they're lost out at sea without a lighthouse or a sea chart. Take some deep breaths, Myunghon.

"... the more I think about it, the more I realise 'find one single person to fulfill all your needs for the rest of your life' sounds truly absurd."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Myunghon pouts and Shinobu offers them a brief apologetic look - but she doesn't take the question back. She listens, though, as they continue, working their way through their thoughts.

...She 'hm's to herself, folding her arms in front of her. ...Though she does look ''briefly'' sheepish when Myunghon recounts the things that make them fond of her.

"I mean... Yeah. I still dunno if I'm ready for something more... committed." Shinobu replies, a little awkward for a moment. There's still that fear, there - of finding that she's lost all interest once she's gotten in too deep to leave. "So, like... if you can find things in them that you need, I'm happy for you? I don't want to claim this is casual and then start dictating your life for you... that's not fair to you. ...Or to them, for that matter."

She shrugs, then - with a small laugh.

"...Yeah. I mean, I know it works for some people, and maybe there'll come a time when I want that, too... but from where I'm sitting right now, it's hard to imagine taking that step." She agrees.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon does settle for a little bit after, focusing on the thing they said that made Shinobu laugh -- that is to say, the immense seeming absurdity of being married once for your whole life and expecting that one person can fulfill all your needs forever. Or at least, that's the incredibly lofty goal in which traditional marriage seems to expect of people, and a lot of marriages sure seem to fall apart, as an outside observer.

"... and... that is all right," Myunghon finds themself able to at least pull at one thread from there. "When people said that it is better to take the shot and miss... mm, everything I have felt from that first night at your apartment up until now has been valuable for me. Everything from how I felt right after, to thinking that I still felt that way even after two weeks... then three weeks..."

There's a drawn inhale of breath, then a soft exhale. "And... perhaps that's the same way, here? I'm not looking for a contract and to slap a label of 'girlfriend' and everything that everyone assumes that comes with. And... certainly I'm all ears for what you'd like out of me too..."

But Shinobu is answering the question -- if they can find things in Tsumugi that they need, then she's happy for them. There's-- a soft chuckle as they lean to say, Merry-moding a touch, "... it's okay to get a little jealous, you know. ... but I understand."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Shinobu nods. She remembers them talking about that, being better to take the shot and miss... and she remembers the immense awkwardness after. That feeling still hurt.

Not looking for a contract and a label, huh... Shinobu nods again.

"'Ppreciate that, honestly. It's nice not to worry about, uh... expectations." She admits with a shrug. What she'd like out of them, though... "I think... so long as you're there when I need you, I'm good with whatever. But, that's never really been an issue."

She pauses for a moment.

"...And that goes both ways, of course - you need ''me'', I'll be there. Even if you just need someone to complain to or lean on." She replies.

Myunghon Merry-modes a bit, then, and Shinobu laughs. Jealousy, huh...

"Well, if I do, that's ''my'' problem to get over. You can tell me I'm being an ass and remind me we had this talk, it's cool." She assures.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon sidles in just a bit closer, leaning their head to rest... ... against Shinobu's head, likely, because they are taller, even when they're both sitting. It's gonna take a bit of effort to land on her shoulder, they think to themself. "Could you have even imagined this happening a few months ago? It all does feel as if there was a storm of people entering my life. I've known you for longer but it still feels like I was drifting listlessly earlier in the year..."

Which is pretty true. Having the company they do now in their life seems to have improved Myunghon's ability to cope with the day to day significantly.

The way in which Shinobu points out it's her problem if she feels jealous has Myunghon blinking a little bit, as they laugh very gently. "... I do really like it when you get quite worked up," they point out. "Thank you... thank you for being in my life, Shinobu-ssi. I do appreciate it a lot."

And then they lean for a peck on the-- the cheek?? That's it?! They retract a little as they embarrassedly say, "... I just-- realised, um, well, what boundaries on the physical do you want..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Myunghon sidles in closer, leaning their head against hers. ...Shinobu had never really thought about the height difference between the two of them, but it really comes into contrast when they're like this, huh.

"No, not really." Shinobu admits with a small laugh. "We'd kind of just been going through the paces for a while... but things really started to shake up, huh?"

Her comment actually gets a small laugh out of Myunghon, and that gets a slight smile out of Shinobu in turn.

"You do? I always kind of worry I put people off... I'm not exactly, uh. Delicate. With anything." She admits. She can be pretty abrasive, in fact... But Myunghon thanks her, and that earnest appreciation takes her aback a bit. She looks sheepish, but not unhappy. "Uh... Thanks. I'm glad you're in mine, too."

Myunghon leans in for a peck on the cheek! They look embarrassed, but Shinobu offers them a smile in turn. They ask their question, then. What boundaries... Shinobu thinks on that for a moment.

"Nothing's really off the table for me..." Shinobu decides. "Just depends on what's comfortable for you. Don't rush into anything you're not ready for. So maybe... start slow?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Shinobu did say she likes tall, so Myunghon is at least glad for that. ... it does make them feel a bit awkward, but it isn't as if they can just sand off several centimetres of their feet away or anything!! And the tallness does, sometimes, come in useful for parsing.

"It really did. I almost feel like I have to thank Kaneshiro, but it sort of started before he even turned up on our doorstep..." Myunghon ruminates. Weren't they going to talk about the Phantom Thieves at some point...? ... they're too comfy now. Sorry, this is clearly a Social Linking scene, not a plot development scene!! Or at least, it was fighting between the two for a bit.

Shinobu expresses her fear of putting people off, though. "... and I'm often too delicate to really push people back, so that's a nice compliment, don't you think?" It's true that Shinobu hasn't really been abrasive around them, so perhaps they'll experience that differently, but the bashfulness is quite cute indeed.

As for physical boundaries, Shinobu decides that nothing's off the table -- just what's comfortable for them... "Y-yeah. I mean, it did end up being-- unexpected and a bit strange with Tsumugi--" They pause, as they start to interrogate that it does feel a bit weird to be talking about them like this.

"... ... I should probably do something about the third floor, huh..." Nice topic switch, Myunghon.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>It's true. Shinobu ''does'' like Tall. She did say she generally goes for the opposite of what she is...

Shinobu thinks on that and laughs, just a little.

"...Yeah. I don't wanna give that guy any more credit than I have to. The only thing he succeeded at was rallying all of us to kick his ass. Everything else was just us being us." Shinobu replies.

Myunghon says that while she's never delicate, they're often ''too'' delicate, and that gets a small laugh out of Shinobu.

"Yeah, guess so. It's a fine balance, huh?" She replies.

Myunghon says it was unexpected and a bit strange with Tsumugi - Shinobu could ask about that... except, they change the subject all of a sudden, so she lets it drop.

"...Yeah. That, uh. Might be a good idea." Shinobu admits. "I'll do what I can to help, and I'm sure we could rope in a few others."

She pauses and adds, but not unkindly,

"...Might need to call an exorcist or two, too."

This isn't directed at the Phantom Thieves or even Tsumugi - just, who knows ''how'' many unknown evils have begun to take root up there...
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-11: Start Dash

2025-11-12T07:27:19Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: Start Dash''' *'''Cast:''' Ryuzaki Kurama, Ryuji Sakamoto *'''Where:''' Shujin Academy, Track and Field Courtyard *'''OOC Date:''' November 11, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 09, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Ryuji meets a boy with a keen interest in running, Ryuzaki, during the Shujin summer break. Ryuzaki knows him from the track team gossip, but the two talk about their shared interest in track, and at the end, they trade numbers to push each other towards the..."

2025-11-09: A Bit More Clarity

2025-11-12T01:04:43Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: A Bit More Clarity''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Shinjiro Aragaki, So-young Park *'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' November 09, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 08, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Myunghon has a personal revelation after not sleeping the entire night after the Phantom Thieves' meeting. Shinjiro shares his fateful secret with So-young.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> There was a tense meet..."

*'''Log: A Bit More Clarity'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Shinjiro Aragaki]], [[So-young Park]]
*'''Where:''' Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' November 09, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 08, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Myunghon has a personal revelation after not sleeping the entire night after the Phantom Thieves' meeting. Shinjiro shares his fateful secret with So-young.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
There was a tense meeting with the Phantom Thieves last night that elucidated many things and yet obscured others, for many in the Cardboard Dragon. While it was nice to meet with fellow possible co-conspirators within the Palace spaces, there were many unanswered questions, and the looming sword of Damocles of the Change of Heart was always hovering over their head. Was it just? Was it mind control? Could they accept it?

It's morning now. It's a peaceful Wednesday in Hirasaka Ward, and--

BAM

No, it's not So-young for once, it's coming from the third floor--

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH"

BAM BAM KABLAM SLAM CRASH

The noise of someone trying and failing to go down the stairs in ordinary fashion is heard, and Johnny-kun topples over (he's okay, the pot didn't break) as Myunghon bursts into the shopfloor, disheveled, wild-eyed, with bags underneath their eyes. They've still got their black and white suit on, which is looking remarkably upended after a full night of... of...

No, it's probably not Tsumugi. That usually leaves them a lot more depressed.

"IT WAS SO CLEAR THE WHOLE TIME," they shout, fingers trembling. Have... have they even slept a wink overnight?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>After the tense meeting last night, which he knows he contributed to, it was midnight, and Myunghon did not want Shinjiro arriving in Iwatodai at 2AM. Therefore, he crashed on the couch!

Shinjiro has just gotten up and changed, preparing to figure out what to do next, when he hears the crashing. He's about to rush up there, see if it was an attack...

When Myunghon slams their way down the stairs and hasn't slept, Shinjiro lets himself breathe again, heartbeat racing.

"...Myunghon, have you *been up all night*?" he asks, clearly concerned. "Don't tell me you haven't slept... I almost just marched up there."

Then, he takes a seat on the couch he just made up, moving to beckon Myunghon over so at least they aren't standing and fall over while talking.

"What'd you figure out?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> It's not So-young this time, but that's only because So-young is in fact walking up the fire escape when she hears the sudden smash and clatter of Myunghon self-destructing. Between the meeting with the Phantom Thieves, the late hour, and the terrible weather, she gave up on trying to navigate her way home that night and simply found herself a late-night hotel room nearby instead.

She manages to mute her surprise enough to not even break her pace, not least because she's still catching up to the morning sunlight and sipping at a sweet-smelling coffee as she climbs the stairs. It's not as good as her favorite cafes back in Shibuya, but she's managed by now to scope out the immediate area and found herself a comfortable place to get a good coffee rather than settling for something out of a can, and an artsy little sandwich (read: no crust) to go with it.

The conductor is a bit owlish as she walks inside, squinting at the manic Myunghon as if it's much too early for this. (It is too early for this.) "Bam," she actually vocalizes for once as she walks inside and with the couch busy - gasp! - takes the seat behind the counter. "Oh, suddenly I feel all-powerful," she remarks. "This store is my domain, and so on."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"We've all been taken in for fools," Myunghon blurts out at the same time So-young enters, that Merry-like grin somewhat on their face. Their nose is bleeding, likely from the fall, and they've likely exacerbated the poor condition that their body is in, but it doesn't stop their manic energy, no. Shinjiro beckons them over, and they sit--

AND THEN they immediately stand back up. "So-young. Nuna. Shinjiro. What is a Phantom Thief. What is a Change of Heart?" they query in that kind of annoying way when they clearly already have the answers but is trying to make a point to make themself look smarter or perhaps their brain is trying desperately to not just jump to Point D immediately. "When did the phenomenon start, publicly? When did it actually start?"

They're pacing all over and then immediately stumble on the coffee table and then is forced to start hopping on one knee because WOW THAT HURTS
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>As So-young enters, Shinjiro gives a nod, especially as she takes the seat behind the counter. "Don't let it go to your head," he says as Myunghon sits down... and stands back up, going manic.

Seeing that bloody nose and the fact they stumble and start hopping, he's sighing. Rising back to his feet, he walks over to the DETTOL CABINET, looking for wet wipes and a first aid kit. They don't look like they need the latter fully just yet... but THEY MIGHT SOON if they keep this up.

Even so, he's listening, and considering. "Well, if we go by just what we've been told, what we know is that a Phantom Thief is a person who steals someone's 'distorted desires', leading to a confession and remorse, right?" He's being even-handed on his feelings right here.

"And... a Change of Heart is the phenomenon that leads to this."

Though, then there's the next question. When did it start? "Well, they kept mentioning Madarame and Kaneshiro. Weird they'd go for Madarame first, admittedly. Wasn't he an art thief?"

He has a lot of gaps in this case. He was homeless at the time!
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young's eyebrows shoot up as Myunghon calls her by name and then immediately by title instead, immediately after falling over and bleeding from their nose, to ask them what a Phantom Thief is??? There are many answers that So-young could posit because that question has been on her mind since waking up, but with an absolutely straight face she immediately retorts: "I think you might find them in the first-aid box."

"... they're kids," she says first with a frown. "Kids who have chosen, for some reason, to risk leaping into the heads of people who are willing to lord power over others." Her wording is a bit off, but she doesn't mean that in a bad way. It's a legitimate data point to her that the Thieves were adamant that they weren't looking for thanks - but they aren't exactly enacting a societal change either, not if they need to unanimously agree on a specific target. That implies a personal stake, right?

"He was," she supplies to Shinjiro with a frown, because this is her speciality subject. "He was a celebrated artist who ran a very elite atelier for promising newcomers - and then it turned out that he was simply taking their work, with minor modifications, and presenting it as his own. I talked to one of his students following the change of heart, and he was essentially threatening to ruin their careers if they dared speak up. For artists of that calibre, being blackballed by someone so connected can be a very real concern."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon is positively wheezing for breath by the time Shinjiro gets to the wet wipes and they take the time to clean their face for a moment, though some blood has dribbled onto their bandages. It's a bit unsightly. They're still pacing as if they desperately need to burn off energy unless they stay still and become some kind of ultra-resonant singularity of vibration that will shake so hard they jump timelines.

"Yes, exactly! Exactly. We know for a fact what those 'distorted desires' are. Akabane-san and I both sensed it from Kaneshiro when he visited. But this phenomenon isn't exhibited by literally everyone," Myunghon explains like they're an agitated scientist right after a breakthrough. They're going to crash and burn like Icarus so hard. Perhaps they picked the wrong Persona.

"But we have been so taken by the public factor and presentation of 'Phantom Thieves', and 'Change of Heart' through the media picking it up by storm," Myunghon continues. "If you peel all of the media spin, what is left? ... a group of Persona Users, a supernatural space, and a target that has had their cognition altered to such a drastic degree that it registers upon supernatural senses... and a method, which is still not entirely clear to us, in which this alteration is undone."

They're so innocently excited as they say, "Now, have we not done something entirely like this only a few days ago?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>As Myunghon wipes up, out of breath and still pacing, Shinjiro sighs again, and does not sit back down just yet.

"Myunghon, *breathe*. The conclusion isn't going to run away from you if you calm down."

As So-young speaks, Shinjiro shifts, nodding. "They definitely seem young in personality at least." He considers the Madarame thing. "So a big deal... hm."

But then, Myunghon has more questions. Shinjiro considers the point they make. "...you're right. It's basically PR gloss. If you distill it all down to brass tacks..."

He's still considering the ramifications, when Myunghon mentions a few days ago. "...the Homunculus, right?" He's not sure where they're going now, but he's curious.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young straightens up slightly in surprise when Myunghon mentions that two of their number 'sensed' the distortion. She got this feeling back during the meeting as well - she can tell when someone's sounding a bit distorted, but the way they referenced the phenomenon implied that they were dealing with something more. A capital-D Distortion. Her brow furrows as she spins her memory back to go over the meeting, but it's not as if she was resonant at the time, so the odd discordant moment didn't even register to her.

But remembering the event also makes something else occur to her, and the conductor sits back in her seat as she folds her arms. "Hold on, on top of that. At the time I was too busy drowning in adrenaline to really understand what was going on, but now that I think back - the people 'protecting' Kaneshiro's heart were not exactly upstanding members of the police community." She is still only dimly aware of the NWO, but it's enough to know that there are such groups on Myunghon's radar. "Did they have a hand in causing the original distortion?"

She's a bit too stuck on that thought to really keep up with Myunghon's racing mind, blinking as she tries to catch up on matters of the Homonculus.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon does have to stop themself as Shinjiro coaxes them to breathe, and they take a moment to hold onto the cabinet to do just that. That's right, the conclusion isn't going to get stolen away like a Phantom Thief is just waiting around the corner waiting to snatch their hypothesis.

"Very possible, nuna, and after all we know of the Dark Hour, I am very willing to entertain the hypothesis," Myunghon shakily points their finger at So-young. "However, unprovable at this time. Double however -- that man in the Black Mask had a ''reason'' to silence Shadow Kaneshiro. If his Shadow is killed within his Palace, we know the consequence -- a Mental Shutdown... this is all very likely to be related to why the NWO are all quite invested in this. To what end they benefit from someone being Distorted, I cannot yet find the path..."

They look towards Shinjiro again, as he correctly brings up the Homunculus. "Yes. That was the pattern I found. A Homunculus is created from an external factor that 'distorts' the individual. Similarly... I don't believe the Change of Heart phenomenon is that convenient. You cannot simply change *anyone's* heart -- this 'distortion' is key to it. The Phantoms also revealed that they only act upon unanimous decision on those that are causing harm in physical reality that cannot be stopped by physical means."

Myunghon waggles their shaky finger in turn. "Which does suggest the ''existence'' of other Palace Rulers out of the eye of media that aren't harming anyone. When I consider it this way, the phenomenon did not ''start'' with the Phantom Thieves... no, rather, we became publicly aware of it because of how the Phantom Thieves used it. Much like how Apathy Syndrome originated longer than the public knew."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>"Strega was helping too..." Shinjiro says as So-young mentions the police community. "And they're definitely not cops. Disposable mercs, for sure."

But as Myunghon turns to him, having breathed... and he himself has a realization.

"If it's possible to *not* have to change a heart, that means that the Distortion isn't something that needs to be treated like a Homunculus likely does. Which means..." He doesn't voice what he's thinking, just yet.

"So you think the Thieves found it, instead of inventing it?" He also knows a lot about Apathy Syndrome, and reacts with a frown to that... but he can't give Myunghon his information there.

"I have a thought. But I want to hear your conclusion first."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> Alright, so figuring out the Phantom Thieves and their deal is certainly interesting, but as So-young sips at her coffee she watches Myunghon out of the corner of her eye and decides this is just as good. She's so used to it either being deflated Myunghon or righteous confidence Myunghon that this transitional space is pretty amusing to watch.

The conductor unwraps her sandwich thoughtfully. It's a 'club sandwich', small and dainty, and she frowns as she recalls how much she paid for it. She feels like she could eat three of these. "So you can suggest that the Black Mask was silencing Kaneshiro to prevent the police or the public finding out something awkward in Kaneshiro's confession." She pauses with the sandwich halfway to her mouth. "... which suggests that the Black Mask also knew the consequences of a change of heart?"

She's not normally this good at picking up causes and effects. Maybe it helps that they really feel like they've gone into some dramatic science fiction opera, because at least then the actress side of her brain can keep up just by tracing the shape of the plot.

Half the sandwich has been annihilated in one go. She's definitely going to have to hit up a convenience store later, she thinks. With a tilt of her head, she looks towards Shinjiro. "Personally, the conclusion I draw is that a Distortion is not naturally made - but that someone is causing them, perhaps on a wide scale, and does not want people to find out."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"Yes, quite true. Strega was there, and whether they have an investment in Palaces themselves or were merely hired..." Myunghon doesn't quite know. But Shinjiro ruminates on the consequences of it. If there are other Palaces, and they don't have a change of heart... that means it isn't something that has be treated like a Homunculus.

"Possible, but all merely conjecture at this point. We have to take into account that the Phantom Thieves likely are not operating with a full set of information either. We only know of the consequences of what a Homunculus does because someone experienced was on hand to explain," Myunghon gestures. "The Phantom Thieves have only been active since earlier this year. I doubt that they understand the full ramifications any more than we do."

Shinjiro posits that the Thieves found it, instead of inventing it. Myunghon nods... and has a thought. They watch So-young eat for a moment and that makes them realise they haven't had anything in their stomach since... before the fireworks last night. Not the worst stretch of time to have had nothing they've had, but.

"Quite possible. I should re-review the footage... perhaps coax Suou-san into giving me more detail," Myunghon murmurs. "But my conclusion is--"

Then So-young makes their conclusion and you can just see the tremble as Myunghon looks like they've just been ruined for life. "'Unnatural' is still a wide field," Myunghon attempts to recover, "but I believe that the Phantom Thieves are taking advantage of their knowledge of how to address the Distortions in order to advance their goal of striking fear into tyrants, yes. They certainly have become quite the media darling... and on social media as well."

"Which..." Myunghon pauses.

"I did note my own discomfort last night, Shinjiro-ssi, even before you spoke. But I cannot find it in my heart to believe people like Skull or Panther are malicious, and I would dare say an outsider should also find me suspicious, if it were not for the more forthright company I keep."

They tap their lips. "... my conclusion is that I do still believe, much like how I have been suspicious of who makes the Meta-Nav app chase me, that the Phantom Thieves do not lie at the heart of it. But I believe they hold other pieces of information vital to solving the mystery."

And...

...

Hearing Panther talk passionately in rebuttal to Shinjiro did affect them. So-young is blunt when they say 'they're kids', but that same pang of concern that has them worried for SEES is there with the Thieves too. They have to put up the grandest of masks because society's all turned against them.

...

As they turn inwards, you can just see the way Myunghon's deflating, adrenaline and energy immediately leaving them and they have to balanace themself and sit down on the couch.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>Shinjiro listens to Myunghon and So-young for a long moment. He's quiet, ruminating on his thoughts.

"I said it last night. I don't think they're bad people," he finally speaks.

"But... I slept on it. I still don't think this is a good idea. I mean, I'm willing to help them out if we see them in the field, make sure they don't get hurt. But an arrangement... it's tacit approval, isn't it?"

A long sigh, as he sits next to Myunghon. "...I'll go with whatever you say, but I have a conflict of interest. It's not why I believe what I do, but..." He'll leave it there, because he's sure Myunghon can guess who the conflict of interest originates with. But they'd also be able to guess why he doesn't say anything more about it.

Then, he takes a breath. "I believe what I do because of what I've gone through. It's not something I'm sure I'll ever budge on, not that that means much with what's going on with me."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young's eyebrows raise as she cruelly steals away Myunghon's conclusion for herself, and So-young actually looks genuinely annoyed at having done that. In some attempt at commiseration, and because she caught the look on Myunghon's face, she does offer the other half of the sandwich forwards. Of course, it's seasoned, but maybe Myunghon can deconstruct it so they have something in their stomach at least. "Sorry, sorry," she adds with a apologetic smile. "I was getting invested."

She nods along to the point about Skull and Panther, Panther especially. You don't fake how suddenly she got angry, which does again point to the personal aspect. Not that she can begin to guess at what that might be, especially not without knowledge of any other victims, but maybe there's something to the idea that the Phantom Thieves started out small and are just riding the wave of popularity.

"Beliefs and principles are all perfectly fine," she adds carefully, aware that this is not the first time she's potentially hurt Shinjiro by being a bit too blunt. "But the trouble is that for many people this sort of situation is not just a thought experiment, but often a very real and pressing concern. We've experienced it ourselves - what other options were there when Kaneshiro came knocking? And we had a lot more resources available to us than an art student living on their own in an atelier in a different country."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon is suddenly very quiet, not even reaching for the sandwich -- as they realise they really should front up about their issues at some point, but that feels like admitting that So-young is the sibling that Has It All, so it's still a bit of a hangup for them. Shinjiro repeats the points he made last night, but also that he slept on it... and still doesn't think it's a good idea.

But he does acknowledge helping them out so they don't get hurt.

They're very calm, though they look to Shinjiro again as he repeats he'll go with what you say. "Hmmm. I'd... first echo my sentiments with Joker about not allowing yourself to be passively convinced," Myunghon does first point out. But he has a conflict of interest... he doesn't say with who, but it's rather clear that it's SEES. Now that's very intriguing. Where's the link here... they stop themself from spiderwebbing out into a spider chrysanthemum, however.

But this isn't new -- and it means that Myunghon isn't upset at Shinjiro, in the same way they can't be upset at Yukari for how she reacts to when they point out they're jumping at shadows. A part of them is just hurting harder, quietly, at how much damage is already done from just Ten Years Ago. ... how many more?

They look a little more squarely at Shinjiro, still soft. "If it doesn't sit right with you, then it doesn't sit right with you." Their glance is on So-young for a moment, wondering if this would push Shinjiro to admit it to her...

"... but you know. I killed that homunculus, Nanghaithya," Myunghon does point out. "I can dress it up as much as I'd like about how Taro Nakata would die, but I still killed a living being, with its own desires and wants. I wouldn't want the Enma to not judge me for that."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>"I won't," Shinjiro replies to Myunghon immediately. "I just don't want to be the anchor here, either..." It's clear he's feeling bad about *that*, at least. This isn't his show...

So-young makes some good points, and her carefulness helps Shinjiro be calm about it. "...I have... not personal experience with this, exactly, but with things similar enough that it stings. There's... never a good option, but even if I don't know what the answer is, I can't do something that I so staunchly disagree with."

He looks to Myunghon, as they mention killing that Homunculus. He fidgets with his fingers for a moment, before taking another breath. He doesn't respond directly, but he's thinking about it.

"I want to tell you why. The others have more or less heard most of it, when it's become relevant. We haven't really had a good moment, though I've been meaning to share it."

He waits a long minute. He's centering his thoughts.

"...years ago, SEES was three members. Me, my best friend Akihiko Sanada, and Mitsuru Kirijo."

A pause. "We never got far. We didn't have the power we have now, and had never cleared Tartarus's first floor. We mostly just did patrols for Shadows during the Dark Hour. Two years ago, we were patrolling a residential district. A dangerous Shadow was there, and we fought it. I... always had a temper, and got really pissed off. Charged in on my own."

He's taking another breath, clearing his throat. "Next thing I knew, I lost control of Castor. He went berserk and started rampaging. Killed the Shadow and then smashed straight into a house, pretty much pulverizing it."

"...a woman died, a mother to a small child."

He trails off there. He clearly has More To Share, but that's all he can manage for right this exact second, with the tension of last night still being felt.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young offers the sandwich a moment longer, before tilting her head in acceptance. It wasn't exactly a likely thing to be accepted, at least from what she has passively taken in about Myunghon's diet, but she had to at least make some kind of offer.

Shinjiro speaks up, and this time So-young does turn silent as he speaks, her audience sense back in full swing. Her frown deepens as he speaks, and it's not lost on her that she also very nearly killed someone herself when she went to swing a kick at Ichiba's coffin, a trickle of ice running through her veins at the thought of it. "... I see," is all she says afterwards. There's no judgment in her voice, not when she'd probably have done the same were it not for Umie's timely warning. Besides, she has no doubt that Shinjiro has done quite enough judgment for himself since. Similarly, it's not like she can offer any sympathy. It simply is what it is.

Leaning back in the chair again, she nods along with Myunghon. "... I am not making my points to try to suggest your outlook is 'wrong'," she adds onto Myunghon's statement, frowning as she glances over to Shinjiro to hedge her statements. "And I understand you being cautious about meddling in the Dark Hour or the Metaverse. All I am doing is trying to clarify where each person's lines are, and mine keeps swinging back to 'what other immediate options does someone stuck under someone else's thumb have?'"

Her immediate instinct is to furrow her brow and open her mouth to Myunghon's final point, but she stops dead as she realizes her sibling is two steps ahead of her - because of course the human reaction _is_ to dress it up in that way as a means of defence. Pausing, she takes stock, and tries again. "... all I can do is whatever seems best in the moment. Maybe I will end up with regrets later, but I'd rather have those than regrets now." Truly, one of So-young's core philosophies in a nutshell: Tomorrow's So-young can deal with it. "At least I feel I can hold my head up high that way."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
To her credit, Myunghon is actually kinda surprised that So-young is largely managing to thread this conversation. They're kind of expecting So-young to, in her own words, 'be the bull in a China shop'. Their respect might have gone up a notch... as Myunghon dwells in consideration for a moment longer.

"Good intentions, hmm..." Myunghon finds themself remarking, perhaps struck by something Yukari said that they don't know loops back to Shinjiro!

They've heard this story before, however, so they don't flinch or particularly look deeply bothered by it -- though it is still difficult to listen to every time; they quietly place a hand on Shinjiro's shoulder, even though it kinda hurts to have it up this high. (Shinjiro's still pretty tall.)

Besides, they know a bit more about what's More there. That child is now in SEES...

"The truly impossible, dark choices we are faced with all have deeper causes," they say, gently. "When I say I wish to become Hope, it's in the desire that we do not create the circumstances in which people like us have been produced in the first place. When I said last night that I aim to vanquish the Dark Hour, that will come with truth. That is why my investigation continues."

A part of them does wonder if Shinjiro will eventually object to the shape their Hope, seething through the garden and smothering, will hold. They've never been particularly idealistic about the idea of a bloodless Revolution. Then again, the crux of what Shinjiro feels is in the ownership of such darkness -- and then, also, taking it all onto himself so that others don't have to experience it.

There's a vivid, almost menacing smile as they look to So-young on her reflection on how 'all she can do is do whatever seems best at the moment'. It's all so very... human. 'Best' is an incredible sliding scale, Merry knows, and it's exceptionally hard for one to have a gauge on what 'their best' is in a given moment -- and humans are so, so very prone to reflecting how that was 'their best' in hindsight, dampening themselves down into a watered-down mess.

Then it passes. "... Shinjiro-ssi, you're leaving for Yakushima soon, right? For the summer vacation."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>Shinjiro still wants to share, but needs a second. Myunghon's comfort help, and he leans forward a bit to make it easier. So-young's two word response causes him to actually be visually surprised... he thought, perhaps wanted, her to get mad at him. But she didn't.

"...There's a black market drug out there that lets you suppress your Persona. I started taking it, but the side effects were... hardcore." he continues with that bolt of lightning, after they say they understand his caution and wannt to clarify his lines. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... the reason I don't want to make any more mistakes is..."

He falters for a moment, that two-word response being something he hopes he doesn't hear an echo of.

"I've got less than a year to live, and I've wasted enough of the last two. So if I can find the right way to go, instead of picking the bad option that might still help people, then I want to do that."

Shinjiro then tilts his head over to Myunghon. "SEES has figured out a way to stop the Dark Hour, if all's true. We're working on it." As much as he distrusts the adults in SEES, he doesn't think Ikutsuki is lying to them.

Then, the question comes forth about Yakushima. "Tomorrow. We'll be gone for a week. Too late to call out now, right?" He's half-joking there.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> This is, largely, the perfect storm in which So-young is able to take things more seriously: it's morning and she's still waking up from sleeping somewhere unusual, she's still getting through her first coffee, she still has the Hayashi incident on her mind, she's been turning over the matter of the Phantom Thieves in her mind ever since the plan went out to meet them. And, crucially: despite her comment that this isn't a thought experiment anymore, from where she's sitting right in this instant, it kind of is. If something were happening right in front of her, her calm would likely be a much different story.

She snorts pleasantly to Myunghon's glance her way. "Yes, yes, I know. It is a very wooly definition, certainly. But it's how I live my life. If I feel I have to tell a director to go fuck himself I absolutely shall, and whatever happens next happens. I realize I have a remarkable amount of freedom to do that." Alright, maybe So-young really will age into one of those deeply problematic angry conductors, but at least she'll be yelling upwards rather than down. That's a... start...??

She'll back to frowning as Shinjiro continues, and something filters through into her expression this time around. Her brow flickers and she almost shoots something immediately back to his comment about 'the right way to go', before she pauses to reel it back a little. You can tell she's trying to moderate herself because she almost sounds prim. "... you want to find the right way for yourself. That's fine. But in doing so, I think in the process you have started thinking of it as the right way for _everyone_."

Looking up, So-young lets out a sigh. "Consider this. If the 'right' way is to not meddle supernaturally but wait for remorse to naturally come to Madarame or Kaneshiro, how long will that take? How many people's lives will be affected in the meantime? How much longer it will take when they receive no pushback for their deeds and become even more entrenched in their ways?" This might be a dangerous line of thought, because it naturally bleeds into: if you remove the Dark Hour, what recourse will those people have _then_?

"For some of these students, Madarame took away everything from them; not just their art in the moment, but the chance to follow their dream and passion. When I offered that ex-student a commission, their first response was that I should not have approached them because they were now blacklisted and should not even be approached. All I can think about is how much worse it would have been if they'd festered in that situation even longer," she adds, her expression stony.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It doesn't really get any easier to hear that Shinjiro is dying in, at most, a year.

They're taking this a lot better than when they first found out, on those swings in the Naganaki Shrine. Their mood is still sort of in freefall after all the adrenaline and energy of their hypothesis has left them.

So-young calls them out, though, and they tilt their head in turn as Myunghon carefully returns their face to neutral, and then just kind of widens that Merry-like smile. "I think that has... ... ... ... certainly worked out for you thus far." The pause is perhaps tactically applied.

But the topic of Shinjiro's incredibly short life has So-young pointing out that Shinjiro's inflicted that on everyone as part of how he views his time left in the world. They choose to rise slowly at this point to head towards the kitchenette, perhaps to let So-young takt the center stage at the moment and find their suspension of beansprouts in protein jelly in the fridge.

Madarame comes up again, and with it, they're thinking of Masao, who was forced to return to living with his parents. A cube is in their mouth as they chew and consider it for a moment longer. The only reason they can talk about Madarame is because it become a hot media sensation, thanks to the Phantom Thieves. So many other injustices happen behind closed doors, in domestic situations, though. Tsubasa is a case they only have the privy of being able to correct because of their close proximity.

There's the paradox of their Hope, now is it?

In choosing to replace their life and blood with hope, Merry can't save those closest to them. No, Merry must live on nebulously, like a legend that people will say in interviews they were inspired by. ... isn't that the same kind of escape Shinjiro's deploying?

(another protein jelly beansprout cube goes in here)

... there's still something else in there. As So-young pointed out, in seeing other people who don't appear to be as reflective or guilty of their actions, it reflects back on himself, torques his feelings, makes the time he's already spent feeling guilty feel less meaningful, which, in turn, makes him feel like he's wasting the very short amount of time left...

"I'm hoping it will be worthy of the bucket list, Yakushima," Myunghon points out.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>So-young pushes back, saying that he's thinking of the right way for everyone instead of just for himself. She makes a good point, and she can see Shinjiro chewing on it - how long will it take to help these people if they do it the 'right' way?

"...there's just things people shouldn't do. This magic shit doesn't exist to just be a tool. Who knows why it does? We use it to protect people because if we don't get involved, they'll die, sure. But to be judge, jury, executioner on the ones who are considered guilty, using forethought and premeditation? I don't like that."

There's a frown there. "...I know, I can't tell others how to think. But I can't let anyone else make mistakes like I have, either. These things live with you in a bad way, stain your soul. If I can stop someone from turning out like I did, I will."

He turns over to Myunghon as they get their mean sprouts. When they mention the bucket list... "I hope so. My birthday's on Saturday, but no one knows but Aki and Kirijo, so it should be fine." Wait, he's *hiding* his birthday?
Shinjiro is, perhaps, unaware that this is a revelation that will lead to his destruction. You're doomed, Shinjiro Aragaki.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young squints at the grin and the pause, looking owlish again. "... is this how younger siblings work? Do I just get another family member to poke at my poor battered ego?" she grouses, but there's an element of amusement and a sort of upbeat affection there. At the very least, she seems happy that Myunghon is sniping back at her. She's never really considered herself to 'have it all', or at least she's more aware of what Myunghon does have and what her childhood lacked. Perhaps it's just that the grass is always greener on the other side.

As So-young said earlier, she's not looking to change Shinjiro's mind so much as she's trying to figure out where his lines are. Would there be an answer that makes everyone happy? No, of course not, So-young is not that naive by any stretch - all she really wants to do is ensure that Shinjiro has considered those questions as valid concerns for his outlook, and she watches carefully as he considers them.

"... I wonder if you might be overstating what the Phantom Thieves are doing," she considers, and glances to Myunghon to check whether her sibling has had any revelations on that front. "From what they've said, what they are doing is essentially giving someone a moment of clarity and perspective. How exactly they are doing that remains up in the air - but if it is true, then I would say that is quite far from being 'judge and jury', let alone executioner."

"Either way. You aren't necessarily an artist, so I don't expect you to agree - but I would prefer to die than ever be pushed into a position where I have to give up music." This comes out whip-crack fast, her eyes absolutely clear as she simply shrugs. "You would be asking me to deny everything that makes me 'me', relegating me to a grey life of-- who knows, retail or something--" (sorry Umie) "And all to appease a thief. I would be more livid at you than him."

She lets that hang in the air, then settles back in her chair again to forcibly remind herself: you are dealing with someone younger than you, and someone who is dying soon. Don't be too mean. "I do not mean to sound harsh, but what is important to someone is up to them. I can be merciful, however," she straightens up, taking the opportunity to revel in a little silliness to break the tension as she lords over the shop floor from her perch at the counter, "And I will refrain from immediately texting Yukari what you just said." She has Yukari's number?!
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
There's a lot about So-young that Myunghon hasn't unpacked or had a serious, honest conversation with, and that they can't exist in her space without making constant comparisons is one of them, certainly. That in their worst moments, there certainly is something resembling resentment as the words their mother have said to them keep echoing in their head: Someone who can be acted upon without consequence...

If they were bullish, perhaps they wouldn't be mangled. Perhaps they wouldn't have broken up with Mei. Perhaps they would've pursued their dreams with her. Perhaps they'd have an answer to gender.

The grass is indeed seemingly greener on the other side.

"Is the remorse that Junya Kaneshiro feels now that his Shadow has returned to him truly what he would have felt inside his heart, only solely due to the Distortion? It is difficult to imagine, but we are not mind readers, and we cannot return to a point in time where we would have seen that for what it truly is," Myunghon does observe. "We do not hold all the answers. We can only dig at them a step at a time."

Myunghon does point out again, for Shinjiro: "And that includes not knowing what the consequences of letting a Palace be is."

There's an incredibly ugly wince on Myunghon's face next as So-young literally tells the teen who just told her he's dying that she'd rather die than give up her art, though. Wow. The way they look down on the 'grey life' that they can't even in conscious mind imagine does hit home. For a moment, they size up So-young for a moment and think: that's privilege right there.

"I'd like to move on," Myunghon does speak up in that referee-like tone, shutting their plastic container of meansprouts. "And..."

There's a delicate little look on their face. "When you come back, I'm going to hold a birthday party for you too. We'll make it a bucket list item. I'll let you destroy me with another Excellent Pet Adventure movie again."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>Shinjiro sighs once, though before he can answer what he thinks about overstating, Myunghon voices his thoughts. "They said what I would have." Though, at their point, he nods once, sighing.

And then, So-young says that she'd rather die than lose her art, forced to do something like retail. He has trouble holding back his words for a moment, no longer responding directly about the Thieves' context anymore. "...I'd rather have a grey life than none at all." Myunghon, at least, knows that he's pretty scared about all of it.

But when Myunghon asks to move on, he winces. "Sorry," he says.

And then he pales a bit at what they say next. The Yukari comment followed by the party... "Wait, what? No, I don't need a party, Myunghon, I- tch." He knows they're going to insist. "Is that really necessary...?"

He's rubbing the back of his head again, both embarrssed and anxious. Something about the idea bugs him, likely the fact that it's attention on someone who doesn't quite deserve it. That it's a celebration of a life wasted.

But his protests die down. He just stares down at the table for a moment.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
<poem> So-young frowns as she considers Myunghon's even-handed warning - that, yeah, chances are the remorse he feels is quite different from what he would have felt naturally. But then, what would he have felt naturally? Would he ever have looked at himself at three in the morning to reevaluate his life? And if not, how much of all of this is a moot question?

The conductor was trying, she really was. She was so close to making it through a nuanced discussion without metaphorically blasting through a wall, but she kind of trips up near the end and manages to punch a hole bigger than any she could have possibly made on purpose. She is still frowning deeply, and it's not directed towards Shinjiro so much as it's directed towards herself... but at the same time she can't just take it back. This is one of _her_ lines, part of the course of who So-young Park is and how she got to where she is now.

"... no, I apologize as well. That was much too far, and much too heated of me. I am sorry," she repeats as she dips her head towards Shinjiro solemnly - before lifting her head with a more bemused frown. "To be honest, it-- is hard to even imagine. You don't exactly look anything other than the picture of health," she admits with an uncertain look as she realizes she's not even sure what to look for. Shinjiro is a tall, fairly hale lad who is apparently as strong as an ox. Myunghon is wrapped in bandages every day and seemingly explodes at a moment's breeze! Her expectations might be slightly skewed here!

Is that really necessary? This, more than anything, is the question that lets So-young centre herself and move forwards from that awkward moment. "Yes???" she insists in return, folding her arms. "Whyever would you not? If you are making a bucket list we will damn well see it added to and completed as much as possible."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
''Is that really necessary...?''

"... mm," Myunghon quietly nods, looking at Shinjiro gently. "It's... just as much for us, you know. ... I've never really celebrated a birthday party before in my life, myself. So I want to try, and if I am trying, then I don't want to do it in a half-measure."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
<poem>Shinjiro seems to accept So-young's apology enough, but then come the responses. They think it's a good idea to throw a party, for themselves, too.

"...okay, then," he decides, Myunghon's logic making sense. "...I'll try to accept it."

He is, admittedly, nervous about it. But if it's for everyone, for the bucket list... might as well. Besides... there'll probably be cake.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

Ruzica Crvena

2025-11-07T05:44:17Z

Merilan:

File:Ruzica2s.png

2025-11-07T05:39:59Z

Merilan:

Ruzica Crvena

2025-11-06T00:52:36Z

Merilan:

2025-11-02: Dreams and Desires

2025-11-05T09:52:59Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: Dreams and Desires''' *'''Cast:''' Ruzica Crvena, Eveline Deschamps, Kanae Fuyuki *'''Where:''' Kagurazaka, Shinjuku Ward *'''OOC Date:''' November 02, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 04, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Ruzica comes across Kanae Fuyuki on her way back from tidying up after a member of the Wild Hunt. Eve checks in on the both of them.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed. <poem> It's another scorcher of a Saturday, even as they'r..."

*'''Log: Dreams and Desires'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Ruzica Crvena]], [[Eveline Deschamps]], [[Kanae Fuyuki]]
*'''Where:''' Kagurazaka, Shinjuku Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' November 02, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 04, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Ruzica comes across Kanae Fuyuki on her way back from tidying up after a member of the Wild Hunt. Eve checks in on the both of them.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
It's another scorcher of a Saturday, even as they're going into August... it's gonna be a while yet before the weather calms down. Today, Ruzica Crvena was headed off towards the Clinic of one mysterious doctor that shouldn't exist yet, and has returned in the meantime with... those are ginormous black bags of garbage in both hands, which she carries despite her relatively slight figure with no particular issue. She's down to just a white shirt with a silver chain dangling off her neck, with her hair tied in a high ponytail as it often is, and black denim skinny jeans... along with a pair of red belts hanging off her waist.

Kanae's met her both as Ruzica Crvena and Ryuzaki Kurama now. The chief difference is the baker's boy hat, which he wears when he's Ryuzaki, to bundle all the excess hair in. ... at least, physically. They wear clothes androgynously, not particularly preferring a masc or femme look either way.

Ruzica looks left and right, like she's about to get ambushed by Isabeau Fontaine dunking bigger bags of garbage and dramatically declaring that she rolled up WAY more garbage than Ruzica did, suck it!! ... but it doesn't happen, so they simply dump the garbage bags into the community bins with a sigh of relief that the task is over.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>Eveline Deschamps has to go outside... sometimes. You may wonder why, as she stands near the community bins, leaning against the wall in the shade.

It's because she's finishing up a cigarette! She's in her white blouse and black pants, an almost-dead cigarette in her hands.

As Ruzica approaches with trash, though, Eve puts out the cigarette (second-hand smoke kills) and casually glances to her ally. "Ruzica, good afternoon. Helping out again?"

Those square glasses take in everything around her, from the obvious to the peripheral. Her sensory range is pretty well-tuned... especially supernatural. "Those looked pretty troublesome. Need to take a break?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
Saturday...

Kanae ''also'' happens to go outside now and then. She's on a walk! The apartment is pretty small, and it's nice now and then to get Out. ...Especially since her plan to go walking in the Dark Hour last night didn't exactly go as planned...

Well, that's then, this is now. Kanae is dressed in a cute dress and some extra light layers, with ankle-socks and tennis shoes. She has a bag slung over her shoulder, and her long, dark hair is down.

She does ''not'' have garbage with her, but she happens to be passing by this part of the area anyway. And as she does...

"Oh, hey," Kanae says. "...Worried somebody's gonna pounce on the trash?" she wonders of Ruzica.

Then a wave to Eveline, who almost certainly sensed her coming.

"Um, hi."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
"... the trash piles up really fast if I don't act quick," Ruzica observes, as if the trash is a living organism with a secret agenda out to kill the mysterious offscreen doctor--!! It's fine, this is Persona things, like if you try to check on Futaba way too early. She looks towards the cigarette for a longer moment. She's asked Eve how cigarettes taste like. She might have even had one secretly at some point.

She decided that this is one of those terrible things people do to themselves.

But Eve isn't the only one here -- Kanae greets them both, and Ruzica rotates in place to face her. "Kanae Fuyuki..." Is she worried someone will pounce on the trash? "You never know... when Isabeau Fontaine is lurking."

A pause, and then she gestures with her now-freed hands. "This is Eveline Deschamps... my mom. She runs the bar down there... mom, this is Kanae Fuyuki from school," as if she hadn't recited her full name earlier.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>"Don't put it all on yourself," Eve says calmly. When Ruzica asks about cigarettes, she told her 'awful' and then left it to that.

Someone'sc oming, and she's tuning her senses in the direction of...

Kanae! "Fuyuki-san, hello." Eve nods from her position on the wall. Ruzica introduces her as her mom, and while nothing shows *much* on her face, there's a pang of awkwardness. They've never really had a discussion about it, Eve just let her call her that. She isn't sure she'd *mind* but right now it's mostly out of keeping cohesion and not disappointing Ruzica.

"We've met, actually. Fleur de Lis," she names her bar for Kanae's sake. "Feel free to stop by sometime, we have sandwiches. There's also occasional events."

A pause, as she looks between the two. "You also go to school with Yuri, then?" Yuri Wakamatsu is a first-year at Shujin, so not in the same class, though she's likely interacted with Ryuzaki there in public. "I'm her mother."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
Persona things...

"Sure you do," Kanae answers Ruzica about Isabeau. "She'll tell you. Loudly. Constantly."

But Kanae sees the introduction happen, and she looks between them. "Oh, yeah?" she asks. "Um, that's cool. But we've met..."

The bar! "I will," Kanae says. "...I like sandwiches and events."

But, "Yes," Kanae answers Eveline about Yuri.

"You don't have to use my whole name," Kanae offers Ruzica. "'Fuyuki' is fine."

"...I was just out for a walk."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
There's a reticience that is in Ruzica today that's starting to shift back onto herself now that she doesn't have two giant garbage bags to externally channel it onto, as she leans against a nearby power pillar in that Too Cool To Care pose, but she doesn't really have the posture or charisma to really pull it off.

She also hasn't checked with Eve about 'mom'. She started, one day, claiming that it'll be the cover, and Eve seems fine with it, but also, she knows it's not that simple... and yet...

This is one of those small 'selfishnesses' that Ruzica Crvena is organising for herself.

"Oh..." Ruzica pauses, as Eve clarifies that the two've met. Similarly, when Kanae says that it's okay to call her Fuyuki, she admits: "... I forget names a lot. I'll try. Fuyuki."

Kanae's shared experience with Isabeau gets a nod. "... you too?" She considers this for a while, those big, golden, gleaming eyes gazing towards Kanae as if to appraise her and scan her for all the spells she can Draw and Junction from. No, those are not real mechanics here, Ruzica, silly. You'd need to be a Navigator, for one.

"I liked our talk at school... about photos," she quietly brings up after a bit. "I can show you some of my cameras and lenses..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>Eve can't help but immediately pinpoint a certain level of reticence in the way Kanae speaks. Nervousness? Distrust? Just how she talks to strangers? She won't poke on it, but it's good to have data points about people of interest.

A nod about Yuri, though. She was curious how Kanae would respond. Instead, however, she pivots subjects to something important.

"How is the night treating you?" It's perhaps not clear exactly what she means, but for a Persona User, it should only have one meaning: how are you handling the Dark Hour?

Meanwhile, she's turning to Ruzica, as if to scan what to Draw and Junction- wait, no- as to ask her a question. "Did the photo of the colorful trapdoor snail turn out well?" Maybe Ruzica will get a bit more animated with that.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
Kanae has pretty good posture. And Yuri--well, she's not going to NARC OUT and tell Yuri's mom about what she's up to!!! ...or maybe she just doesn't know her that well yet. It could be either. In the meantime, though, she looks to Ruzica and says, "That's fine. If you forget, I can remind you." It's not entirely fine, but still.

"Me most, I feel like," Ichika says of Isabeau. She considers those big, spooky eyes...

She looks at Eveline for a moment instead. "It's OK," she says of 'the night'. "Kinda awkward sometimes. But mostly fine. I'm careful."

Photos, though, "I like photography, too. ...I'd be interested to see them sometime."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
It's not fine, no. Ruzica doesn't like forgetting names either, and people usually say it's fine, but on some level it's not fine. No one likes being forgotten. She most of all, when she's already only a plastic, artifical rose to replace the one that's been frozen in time.

That's swallowing her up quietly as she leans on that pillar as Eve talks to Kanae about the Dark Hour. Kanae's interesting. She immediately had the idea to hunt in her own way, despite only having started out. ... what does she have that she doesn't? Where does that drive come from? It intrigues her and draws her towards her.

"I want to go a bit further afield... there's a website I found where people are posting hunts of their own," Ruzica shares, as if asking for permission from Eve.

Eve asks how the trapdoor snail photo turned out, and that does quietly perk Ruzica up a bit as she reaches into her pocket. It's an old-timey photo, developed manually, so it has that vintage quality to it... but the colours are really vibrant, and the photographic choices are very professional, with clear composition and a distinct exposure to separate the snail in the foreground and blurring the background.

"I took the photo from auntie Viv's theatre this morning. What do you like taking photos of, Fuyuki...?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>Kanae decided to hunt alone. On one hand, Eve can respect that. The Wild Hunt was unlikely to recruit a complete stranger anyhow, but if Kanae doesn't want their help, that just shows a certain level of drive that's admirable.

On the other hand, Eve thinks lone hunters get killed.

"Careful is good. You'll want to find others to hunt with, however. Our skills are designed to be complemented by a 'pack'." After all, the Wild Hunt only ever had near-deaths from going off alone.

Ruzica, though, is looking for permission. "I've seen it. Go ahead. I can join you, if you'd like. As I just said, better not to hunt alone."

And then, the photo of the snail! "Impressive," she says outwardly, which is a Big word for her, but also, internally...

Ruzica's as good as she was...

And then, she's turning her attention on Kanae. What *does* she take photos of?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
She did decide to go alone. Was it just stubbornness? Or was it something else?

"Right," Kanae answers. "Of course. ...Eventually, anyway. 'Allies'..." She trails off, and for some reason it sounds like she used a Proper Noun instead of just saying allies. She doesn't explain that. Instead, "My Persona ability lets me get by on my own for a while anyway. Since I can use more than one."

But the website? Hmm.

It's a very nice photo. "Wow," Kanae says. "That does look great. You're really good at them..."

Jsut this morning, huh?

"Landscapes," Kanae says first. "...People, when they let me."

"Places I want to go, people I want to know... A lot of stuff."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
It is very dangerous to go alone, Eve says. Ruzica doesn't even have anything to hand to Kanae and say, "Take this with you." Too ruinous. It's not up to her who the Wild Hunt recruits or rejects. Yet, at the same time, that there have been a lot of new Hunters in the youth feel as if the times are about to change...

Eve does give the approval, and also offers to go with her. "I have to speak with the contact first... then I'll update you on the parameters they want us to operate on."

"And... I do... want to test you, sometime, Fuyuki," Ruzica does express out of the blue, to Kanae. Why does she feel this way? It's not dissimilar to how she feels about Isabeau's insistent goading. If she were to just leave it alone, they could've just been classmates. "That ability of yours..." There was such an ability, once, within the forgotten, broken train station that once embodied Laurent's inner realm. Then, time stopped...

Time has, in fact, waited for all of them, all this time. They won't let go, and yet...

...

They've done nothing but reflect on their childhoods...

There's something of a very private little smile, like she has a quota, that vanishes a second later, when Kanae and Eve both compliment her on her photographic skills. "... I can teach you more, sometime." But... why does it feel like Eve has another girl's photographic skills, in her mind?

Kanae speaks of what she likes to photograph -- landscapes, people... places she wants to go -- people she wants to know.

"I see," Ruzica whispers, turning sedate and far-off again, as if she's gazing into a distance no one else can see. "It isn't enough to capture what's in front of you..." Like a dream, in other words, that requires seizing.

There was a girl like that too, apparently. Whose big dream was travel, to see places she hasn't been and she wants to go, to chat up people she didn't even know she wanted to know...
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>Eve notices the way she says Allies, and quirks her eyebrow slightly. But she won't pry. Instead... "A most impressive power," she says simply, not tipping her hand on exactly how familiar she is with it. "I wonder why you alone have it..."

Ruzica, though, is having a Time. "Just let me know," she tells her first. Then, when it comes to photography, Ruzica seems to be going into a daze. Eve considers how to break it, even as she herself is feeling awkward...

"Ruzica. Would you like to have anything special for dinner?"

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
'The contact'. Kanae is curious, but when she said she wouldn't join them, that meant stuff like this, too. If Ruzica wants to share it with her, she will; she doesn't need to ask. Instead, she looks back to Eveline. "I don't know," she answers. "If you find out, I'm curious." That's technically true... but she also isn't sharing everything she knows.

The coming war...

"You too, huh?" To test her. "All right. Sure. I'll let you."

Time is not waiting so politely for Kanae, she thinks.

"Sure," Kanae says. "I like learning new techniques. ...I'm more into video than still, but I try to keep up my skills in both. You don't know what you want unless you can see it in your mind."

Into the distance...

"Right," Kanae says. "If I only get what's in front of me... That's not enough for me."

Dinner? Well, this part isn't her business much.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
Ruzica has a quiet nod on letting Eve know about the mission. She's often thinking about missions, because missions are money. And money is rent. ... and anything on the side is Burger Time. Eve wonders why she alone has it... and Ruzica is thinking of why Laurent lost it in the first place. It was because of her...

Is this a kind of fate too?

Kanae approves of letting Ruzica test her. "Without a challenge, a Hunter's blades will dull... though I suppose you have your share of that from Isabeau Fontaine as well." They pause, since they're a little self conscious about still doing that, but they hide it well.

At least Ruzica's a little stimulated about the challenge. But Kanae speaks rather grandly to reaching out for something greater, something further in the distance -- if she only gets what's in front of her...

That's not enough.

"You dare to go beyond your time," Ruzica cryptically whispers.

And then, in an instant: "Cheese burgers..." to Eve.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>"I'll let you know anything relevant," Eve says, words chosen carefully.

She listens about the video skills... but she's listening more that she wants to get more than what's in front of her.

"Interesting. So what is enough?"

She thinks Kanae might have some naive idealism... or she might not. Only way to know is to ask.

Ruzica, though, is still being in the distance... but eventually answers her question.

"Sure," she replies about cheeseburgers, as if she knew entirely this would be the answer. "We'll get some in a bit."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
"That's true," Kanae allows about dull blades. "Mm-hm." From Isabeau, too. "I train a lot. I just do it my own way. ...You have to be more careful, fighting on you own. You have to think a few steps ahead."

But Eve says 'anything relevant', and Kanae gets it. Then again, she's only telling Eveline things that are relevant, so...

The cryptic whisper gets a look from Kanae, and she nods. "If you don't dare, you won't go far," Kanae says. "That's why I ended up at Shujin."

She pauses. What's enough?

"I'll know when I see it," she says. "My dream..."

"It's not something I'll share with everyone."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Ruzica Crvena has posed.
<poem>
Ruzica is quiet for a moment longer, seemingly intrigued about Kanae's words. She trains a lot -- that, indeed, is the bare minimum expected of a Hunter. But she has to think a few steps ahead, fighting in her own way... is this, too, part of her dream?

It's as Kanae says. She won't share that dream with just anyone.

"... when our blades cross," Ruzica quietly says, "I'll understand a bit better. That dream of yours."

That's... that's not how it should work, Ruzica. And yet, somehow, it does, for her? It's all just extremely genre for her. She finally draws upwards from where she's leaning, her gold eyes gleaming a bit more in the reflection of the sun as she puts one hand to her denim pocket, crossing past her.

There's a flutter of wind, and her dark hair alights upon the wind as she gazes, once more, into the great beyond.

"Then... I'll take out the trash in the bar before we go for burgers," Ruzica affirms.

...

Is this person always digging around in the trash in their spare time?!?!?!?!

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Eveline Deschamps has posed.
<poem>"You shouldn't. Sharing an aspiration blindly only allows the evil in this world to crush it," Eve muses. But, she raises a hand, shifting from Japanese to French. "Just remember, both of you. `'If, no matter how far you travel, there always seems to be some further place you need to reach, that is a sure sign that the desire is contrary to nature.'`"

As she quotes Seneca, Eve tilts her head over to Ruzica.

"Thank you, Ruzica. I'll text Yuri to join us."

And then, she stands up straight, rolling her shoulders. She can't lean on a wall forever!

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Kanae Fuyuki has posed.
<poem>
"Yes," Kanae says to Ruzica, and in that moment she might seem more connected than she has in the rest of the conversation. "You just might."

It works. Somehow, it does work. But, Eveline has more to say, and Kanae looks at her. "..."

"I don't think you have to be evil to crush people's dreams," Kanae reflects. "And..."

"...What's that from?" she wonders.

She's not sure how she feels about it.

"OK. I'll let you get to food," she says. ...Trash? Hm.

"Have fun. ...Nice to see you both."

She starts away.

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-10-30: Your Only Constant Friend

2025-11-05T09:49:09Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: Your Only Constant Friend''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Yukari Takeba *'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' October 30, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 03, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Myunghon updates Yukari on the results of their investigation into Kirijo Group thus far... but Yukari has much more intriguing news of her own.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> It's been a terrifying couple of days for Myung..."

*'''Log: Your Only Constant Friend'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Yukari Takeba]]
*'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' October 30, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 03, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Myunghon updates Yukari on the results of their investigation into Kirijo Group thus far... but Yukari has much more intriguing news of her own.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It's been a terrifying couple of days for Myunghon Yeo. The incident at the Konan warehouse has left fresh scars, both emotional and physical, given how hard a hit they took to the ribs from the oni-salesman's kick. Given what he's capable of doing to Akira Hayashi's head, however, it's probably a mercy that they only got away with bruised ribs...

And yesterday, they had a particularly interesting meeting with Mitsuru Kirijo, which led to unexpected results. Now they're going to have to thread the needle even more finely, but they did want to check up on Yukari given she was also there and wasn't really able to track how she fared in the battle -- and there was an update they could give her on their... side investigation.

They're taking it easy today at the Cardboard Dragon -- there are no customers once more, and by the time school hours are over, they're simply seated at the couch, fish-eyed and working on something that has them in a tachyonic, intellectual trance... until the bell rings to indicate someone coming in, that is.

"Ah, Takeba-kun. Welcome, please, have a seat," Merry gestures gently, not far enough gone that they can't notice someone coming in. They're wheezing a little, their voice a bit strained as they speak.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yukari Takeba has posed.
<poem>
Yukari only wishes that they could be fresh scars, instead they still feel like open wounds. A White Chrysanthemum, left on a dried bloodstain during the Dark Hour.

She barely even knew his name, but it doesn't matter. It's like how you hear them talk about death tolls on the news.

It's too impersonal a way to talk about people dying. It's why she can't watch the news anymore.

She'd barely gotten back to Tatsumi Port Island when... Koalas, and she turned right back around.

It's a Friday, but she's dressed casually today as she rings the bell, a pink tank top, a pair of flared jeans, white shoes. She's really good at doing her makeup.

One wouldn't even know she's been crying a lot lately when she's alone.

"Hey Merry. Oh, uh, sure?"

She's wondering if this is the type of 'have a seat' where someone is being a polite host, or 'have a seat' because they've got bad news.

The interrogative maybe even carries in her tone.

"How've you been doing?" She asks, casually as she takes a seat and starts some small talk, because well - it feels impolite not to.

"You look pretty ah, busy?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
The makeup does look good. They haven't accessed their kit in years now, though muscle memory would still be there. It feels like they put the foundation of bandages on more nowadays, lest they be confused as someone who still has any semblance of life within them.

"It's been difficult... my ribs are still hurting, and I was advised to take the sling off, which is painful in its own right," Myunghon admits. "But I was able to arrange for safe passage for our client." They're being a bit vague, but Yukari could tell they mean Hinata Hayashi, Akira's sister. "I'm arranging for their protection, and I don't foresee any troubles on that end. I also wanted to thank you for your assistance on that night."

Myunghon shakes their head as Yukari observes they look busy. "No, just some-- other leads. I wished to talk about Koalas. Do you want the silence field up?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yukari Takeba has posed.
<poem>
Yukari would never know that Merry ever wore Makeup. It's just not their vibe, in her eyes. She's still trying to pin down if there's some fashion movement they belong to or the like, but sometimes just thinks she's being trolled.

She's probably not, but she can think it!

"Ugh... sorry. I wish I could do something about that for you, but I can't really." She says, as if sympathetic. In a sense, she got off easy. Barely a mark on her at all.

It's like insult to injury. Physical wounds would at least make it look like she ''tried'' to stop it from happening.

"Oh! That's good of you." She says, quietly, in regards to Hinata, "Hopefully outside of Sumaru- I haven't seen these... killers anywhere else, really."

She used to say 'Cop Killers' after the attack at Ebisu beach, now it's just 'killers'. How do you understand people who can just... kill like that?

Maybe she doesn't want to.

"But, it was nothing really. It's not like... I did anything anyway." It could just be her being humble, but by her tone it's probably not.

Her eyes look startled as if remembering that Silence Field up but then... "Please."

She's got... things to talk about with her too, in that regard. But not while anyone else is potentially listening.

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It would be scandalous and baffling, if Yukari ever saw old pictures of Myorei Yukichi. Myorei Yukichi is directly equatable to *Mitsuru*, to use a comparison in her sphere of people. A prim, professional, conventionally attractive young woman, cultured for nothing but the crispest of business attire and meetings.

Does that make Myunghon Dehydrated Mitsuru, if Yukari ever knew?

"That's all right. I... well. Better a bruised rib than--" Myunghon does pause, trying to not let the trauma and terror creep up on them again. "... and you already did save my life once. I am grateful for that, still."

Outside of Sumaru, Yukari hopes, and Myunghon nods. They glance around, and then raises their hand gently--

"Mafui."

A column of Blue rises around them as Kudlak gestures, spindly and cunning as he typicallly appears, and the sound-muffling field rises in a small bubble around them. Myunghon immediately reaches for their tea, as if to compensate for the SP drain.

"I have a contact that used to work in witness protection... we're arranging for another name and home for Hinata Hayashi. Which... still won't be easy for her, but Sumaru is definitely not a place she can stay in, with how pervasive the NWO is in this city."

A pause, as they shift their legs and try to gather themselves. "So you might have seen me in Tatsumi Port Island a few times this past few weeks... I've been doing a lot of interviewing of the survivors of Ten Years Ago."

They glance aside, then does admit: "I'll start with the bad news. A lot of them are pretty quiet -- some have cancelled on me at the last moment, others have an excuse that feels a little too uniform... but one pattern that did come up is that they were all compensated very well by the Kirijo Group. As I investigated further into Iwatodai, I did find that people largely didn't have a large public outcry... they didn't take Kirijo like an angry mob."

A longer pause, and they look slightly awkward, then -- "And... well, I will also confess I did find who I believe might be your mother's name amongst the list of compensated people. In case that was not... evident to you."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yukari Takeba has posed.
<poem>
Scandalous and baffling are definitely the words for the idea that Merry could ever have been anything like Mitsuru Kirijo.

Whether it makes them dehydrated Mitsuru however, is up for debate!

"... Yeahhhh but... all the same." She says, as if not really trying to ''worry over them'' per say, but more just 'I'm worried but trying not to impose too much. "And I really didn't do much, I mean, look at how long it took you to recover from it?"

It's at least, what she focuses upon. But the Silence Field rises, and Yukari is not certain she'll ''ever'' get used to it.

"The... NWO?" Yukari asks, and pieces together some context in front of Myunghon, "That's what those people are called? ... But yeah I agree, maybe somewhere rural?"

It was her suggestion to Tsubasa at least, that Hinata may be safer somewhere like that.

And then, she sits up straighter, "I didn't- see you, but that's probably a good thing, right?" Yukari says, hesitantly, like 'If I didn't spot you and you were around a lot, then you weren't too conspicuous... despite always being very conspicuous'.

"Huh... I see." Yukari doesn't sound especially surprised at first, though she's reining in that lack of surprise some, her expression neutral. Until Myunghon adds-

"... Geez..." As she lets go that attempt at neutrality and lets that anger creep in as she realizes that Myunghon must know what that means, that it's pointless hiding the details any longer, "... it's mortifying really... that she just accepts ''blood money''..."

What would Dad think!?
It doesn't matter! He's dead! He left us behind to-
Don't you dare finish that...!
-to fend for ourselves Yukari! Of course I take their money! How else do you expect us to live!?
Where's your PRIDE!? They took your husband from you! They took Dad!
... Yukari- he was in charge- you have to accept that-
Don't even finish that statement. All I'm going to accept- is that you've given up on believing in Dad! Or maybe... maybe you just never did.
It's not... like that... I just... what do you even want me to do? Throw their money back at them? Hold my head high as I work fast food? Retail?
... I can't live with you anymore. I can't even stand the sight of what you've become.

"... Traitor." She exhales, looking away from Myunghon as she doesn't want to catch her in the crossfire of her anger, fingers curling into her palm to contain it in the dug in pain of her nails even thinking about their last ''real'' conversation all over again.

A breath... one-two-three-four... she releases those nails. "Yeah... I knew. I couldn't get a single one of them to talk to me. Though it doesn't help that they blame Dad..." Pause, "... And me too really."

A few years back, she had to translate a passage from the Scarlet Letter for English class. She couldn't help but imagine herself as wearing one that only the survivors of that incident, those people who lost someone... could see upon her.

"It doesn't surprise me they all cancelled on you too... I guess, I hoped maybe if it wasn't me, they'd talk."

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"Yes, the New World Order -- and yes, the same one from the conspiracy theories," Myunghon does answer Yukari, still finding the concept a little silly. They're probably just one country away from the conspiracy being the Illuminati... though they're not sure that wouldn't have become real from rumours too.

"I'm not being told where Hinata is headed, of course, for her safety," Myunghon does admit. "... she did confer her thanks to us." It does feel a bit cold, since it still feels like the regretful sting of failure.

Yukari admits not having spotted Merry, and there's a faint smile as they admit: "I did wear different clothes, since I realise that the black coat stands out a lot. Though I did end up meeting Yamagishi-kun in one of my trips out, and I did touch base with Shinjiro-ssi as well."

Yukari's SEEN Myunghon rarely in other clothes, typically more femme, but... it's a rarity! One day, it might just shock her.

But the mention of her mother has Yukari jumping to it being blood money. She calls her traitor. The emotions are raw and difficult, and Myunghon does pause to let her process that. And Yukari reveals she's been doing her own investigation too -- and been stonewalled in the same way. There's a hesitant pause, but then they say:

"I did have a lead, but... it might not be what you were hoping to hear. I dug deep into the records to see just where the opinion that Eiichiro Takeba originated, and that led me to an old Sumaru TV news report. I rang up an old contact with the media to check on where their source for that report was, and... it appears to have been one of the bereaved families, acting as an anonymous tip to the media. The motive is unclear to me -- they couldn't give me more than a brief explanation."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yukari Takeba has posed.
<poem>
"... New World Order?" She sounds skeptical, "Who would name themselves something like that? It sounds like the thing villains on an anime would call themselves or something."

Well, she's not exactly ''wrong''.

Hinata conferred her thanks, makes Yukari think of how Hinata's situation... could make her exactly like Yukari, in many ways.

"Her thanks?" To Yukari at least, it sounds like 'Thanks for failing my brother.' "... She probably didn't know what else to say."

It sounds a mite bitter, and for good reason, before Myunghon describes that they'd met Fuuka and Shinjiro... "Oh, they didn't say anything." A beat, "Good on them."

Much better that they didn't really, even in collusion together. She'd rather not get caught talking about stuff like that by the ACTUAL NINJA in SEES that's loyal to Mitsuru.

Indeed, this is why Yukari doesn't talk about it. For one, because she's used to everyone taking the side that her Dad is at fault.

But also because... the emotions are so raw, so painful. She can't help but hurt the people around her, inconveniencing them with it.

If her feelings about her Dad are an inconvenience, it's better she not say anything at all.

Myunghon's information though, causes Yukari to look up and blink as if startled, "Not... the Kirijo Group?"

That impression of being stunned lasts a few moments longer, before it becomes suspicion, "Well that makes sense. A lot of people blamed him after... and when the news came out, a lot more did."

And that blame ended up being used to hurt her and her Mom. After all, you can't punish a dead man, but you can punish the people he left behind.

...

She looks down though for a while, as if sorting through it. "That doesn't rule them out." Yukari says finally, as if her skepticism had finally come back, "All it would take is them paying someone's family to tip off some journalist who didn't care about the facts."

She really does assume the worst of the Kirijo Group... and perhaps, for good reason. But is she really correct?

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"That was my reaction as well," Myunghon has a very light sigh, as if this is just the odd, stupid reality that Sumaru City exists in. "To be quite honest, that might be why it exists. Such secret societies are old-time rumours, after all. In America they have such theories like secret messages if you fold a dollar bill a certain way. What is to say that is not how it all faciliated itself?"

Yukari reflects on how Hinata probably didn't know what else to say. "... yeah," they answer, similarly deflated. They can't be more positive about it -- they did fail, in their own mind.

But when they reveal that it isn't the Kirijo Group, at least on this end, where the smear tactics started, Yukari has an understandable reaction -- and suspicion, her default narrative, comes back over it. Their lips grow thinner as they purse them gently, watching Yukari work through it.

"I can't rule that out, no," Myunghon does admit. "But Takeba-kun... this suspicion isn't healthy for you either. I'm not done -- my investigation for you will still continue, and there are many dark corners that I think the Kirijo Group is plainly involved in, such as how Evokers exist in Strega's hands as you've yourself observed."

But they do look to Yukari, voice a bit more empathic as they say: "But I do ask you to consider, and to not create more shadows in your mind immediately." They lower their head. "A level of doubt keeps us in check... but an all-consuming one leaves us jumping it anything and everything and leaves us weak and drained. And I say this because I'm very prone to that same habit."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yukari Takeba has posed.
<poem>
"... Here I am, being forced to take an organization like that seriously." Yukari says, in that 'why me' long-suffering tone, after witnessing them kill somebody, and try to kill many others.

It's a crazy messed up world.

Myunghon though notes that the suspicion isn't healthy for her either. "''Excuse me''?" Yukari says, after a time, as Myunghon says this suspicion isn't healthy for her. Sounding incredulous, and even upset.

"Not ''healthy'' for me?" She even stands up, like Merry struck a nerve, starting to shout at such a volume that Merry is probably super glad they have Mafui up or else they'd hear it from the ground floor of this building.

"They killed my Dad! They recently admitted in private to us they created the ''Dark Hour'' on accident, Merry! S.E.E.S.? They told us it was to protect people, but it was really just to clean up their mess! And they didn't ''tell us'' any of this on their own! I had to ''pry it out of them''! What happened ten years ago? That was the start of it all!"

Well that's uh, news. Perhaps even news to Merry. But she only found it out really recently, "And you're telling me that I'm ''too suspicious''!?"

As she remembers what Shinjiro made her do, made her calm down, made her confront Mitsuru, suggested she thought she was withholding it for a good reason.

"I'd say I'm not suspicious enough! That I'm giving them ''too much'' benefit of the doubt!"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
That immediate alarm hits Myunghon fast and hard, a person who's always hypersensitive on messing up their social cues, always on eggshells as to how to approach people, as their words set Yukari off. They try to keep the wrenching in their gut in check and their expression gentle, still, however, as Yukari expresses her disbelief in vigorous, upset fashion.

What Yukari says, though, is news to Myunghon -- their eyebrow raising rather high as Yukari shares that Kirijo *did* create the Dark Hour on accident. That's really interesting -- 'they'? Who did Yukari talk to? She had to pry it out of them... Merry is terribly silent at this for a moment longer.

They decide to channel the facts, and then responds gently after a few seconds of silence, not deciding to grapple 'too suspicious' or 'not suspicious enough', because that's going to set Yukari off further. It hurts them, to see her so consumed like this, but they're not going to be able to reach them right now, like this.

"... okay. I apologise, Takeba-kun," they gently affirm. It's not useful to challenge the self-destructive narrative at present. They want to revisit it when the truth is clearer, though, they file in their mind. A few more seconds.

"It is news to me that they created the Dark Hour -- and on accident, at that. What else did this person you confronted say...?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yukari Takeba has posed.
<poem>
Yukari stands up straighter again in position, as if assessing what her anger did here. Looking at first still just as upset, then slowly easing off as Merry apologizes.

She closes her eyes for a moment, then- "Whatever, I'm sure you had good intentions." There's something just a little deflated in her own words.

Had good intentions, is basically what Shinjiro said of Mitsuru Kirijo.

What else did they say?

Yukari recomposes her thoughts, not yet sitting down, as she crosses her arms, then, "So about ten years ago, Kouetsu Kirijo was the head of the group, and he discovered that Shadows had certain properties... apparently ones that can influence time, and space. So he gathered a bunch of them together to try and create something that can... control time."

It sounds like a fantasy, to ''control time''.

"That was... where Tartarus is now. Where their lab was. Their containment failed, and that caused the disaster... which, created the Dark Hour."

But when you think about it, the Dark Hour itself feels like a fantasy, doesn't it? A frozen, secret hour between hours, at the same time every night.

"In the aftermath, they covered it all up- and, expanded a school that was beside the lab to hide it in plain sight over the site of the disaster. That school is now ... Gekkoukan, my school."

Her eyes slide over to Merry, still with a certain intensity, "I asked Fuuka-chan to look into some odd things I saw on the messageboards for the school, if you go far enough back. Students collapsing... being admitted into the hospital, then never returning to school."

Her expression now changes to being pensive, but worried, "Turns out, that was apathy syndrome. But they covered that up too. It's how no one ever traced this back to Tatsumi Port Island... because they were so good at covering it up that Apathy Syndrome only became a recognized thing a few years back."

Suddenly, it all starts to make sense, doesn't it? Though she still hasn't said her source.

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon does pace themself very carefully -- because hopping to action too quickly has a tendency to escalate in people who're already agitated. They are careful to keep their expression gentle and non-combative or defensive, as is their body posture (a little harder, given how reflexively they tense up, but they're managing, even if their chest hurts so much right now).

They listen to Yukari's story thoughtfully, eye getting a little fish-eye in that way they turn a bit blank when they're deep in thought. What she says is truly revelatory, however -- it would be extremely hard to digest for someone who isn't already used to Sumaru City's daily bullshit.

"So the Shadows... predated the Dark Hour?" Myunghon catches the implications of that story. "We're predisposed to think that the Dark Hour produces the Shadows, and yet..." This does cause them to ruminate further, as they consider the story further.

To control time.

That's so much of what anyone wants to do, isn't it? To have control over their life, to wind it back to a more pleasurable, happy moment, to speed it up over unhappy moments, to stop the inevitable march of death and disease and decay.

It is a fantasy. But it's a very human fantasy.

"Mmm. I was afraid of that very scenario you described, students disappearing," Myunghon confesses. "The NWO is no stranger to blackbagging and kidnapping people, Takeba-kun, and... they have access to Evokers as well. I have not ruled out that there is no connection between them, and the current evidence only paints a stronger picture."

In Kirijo's case, it turns out that the students disappearing was caused by Apathy Syndrome, not something more sinsister... and yet Apathy Syndrome only started when the Dark Hour did.

... just who is the source here? This is a goldmine of information.

Could it be...

"... thank you for sharing all this with me, Takeba-kun," Myunghon does sound genuinely grateful. "For the next leg of my investigation, I'd wanted to focus on the fact that it is plain to both of us that Kirijo technology is frequently leaked to other malicious actors, such as the NWO and Strega. If I can trace the routes they deal, there may be more information there. But on that matter..."

A pause.

"I won't ask you to divulge who told you this. But I did want to check. Is this person who explained this to you a kind who would sell Evokers to those groups?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yukari Takeba has posed.
<poem>
"... I guess? Though they didn't say how they got them. I'd assume some kind of technology."

She tries her best to answer how the Shadows predated the Dark Hour, but she genuinely doesn't know.

It is an interesting thought though, where did they come from, before the Dark Hour?

"I can't say I really know."

It's hard to believe that her Dad worked on something like that. But did he actually? Did he ''really''?

It's ironic, Eiichiro Takeba was the head of a project to control time, and Yukari's the one standing still ten years later.

"... I didn't hear any word of their involvement. But... I wouldn't rule it out." Her eyes drift up to the wall, like she's thinking upon it.

It's like she's still somewhere else, as Myunghon thanks her... and speaks of leaks, but she snaps back to it soon enough, seeming to pick up the context quickly enough like a student not paying attention who got called on during class.

'Is this person who explained this to you a kind who would sell Evokers to those groups?'

Thank you, Takeba. Your assistance is appreciated. I will look into this matter.
If you're out to cause trouble, then we're going to have a problem eventually.
If she's keeping secrets then it's because she thinks it's for a good reason.
It never mattered whether I wanted this power or not, only the fact that I ''had'' it!

"Maybe." Yukari Takeba allows, remembering that Mitsuru said she'd 'look into the Evokers' that they spotted with the NWO, and never said anything else to them. "... If they thought they had a good reason." She says bitterly, as if those words were a poison pill to be swallowed.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"It is... intriguing, because a lot of what we deal with -- you just have the impression that some of these supernatural powers and spaces may very well have existed since time immemorial," Myunghon admits. "But then you literally have the Dark Hour only existing because of corporate action, ten years ago. The assumptions don't always hold."

But Yukari's answer on who her source is is...

Actually comforting, in a way, to Myunghon, because the most terrifying possibility in Myunghon's head is that Yukari is approaching the one who would be actively proliferating the technology, to the NWO, to Strega, and would be part of the black labs that Yua and Remi were both sent to.

That Yukari can admit a *maybe* heavily discredits that, given how suspicious Yukari is, puts them at a bit of ease as to where she's gone to get her information. It was bad enough that Shinjiro had to interface with Strega to get his second Evoker, and his suppressants...

"All right. Thank you for that, Takeba-kun," they say, not betraying that their aim on that question was more roundabout than the investigation. "... I'm going to drop the silence field in five seconds, okay?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yukari Takeba has posed.
<poem>
"... Yeah. Well, it may not be the only one." Yukari says, thinking of her meeting with Ayame. "Maybe the SEBEC incident was the same way. Maybe." She's not ruling it out at least that there was something Ayame said that might be true.

But it is true, as much as Yukari Takeba would ''love'' to say with certainty it was Mitsuru, to pin her to the wall...

... she's not sure. She's not willing to fully commit to that one yet. Because despite her suspicion, despite how much she believes her Dad was wronged.

She wants to know the truth. Not to just throw wild accusations around.

But, there is something too, to Myunghon's line of questioning even beyond that. Those who trust nobody, and nothing in this world to the point of discounting even the idea of the certainty of truth- are often the most vulnerable to manipulation.

"Five seconds... okay."

And five seconds later...?

The moment the spell drops? "Ahaha, what the heck was that? Come on... you know I don't believe in rumors like that, so why all the theatrics?"

She's laughing, as if she were never angry in the first place. Apparently, she'd be a frighteningly good actress if she tried to be.

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon looks particularly intrigued at what Yukari says. "The SEBEC Incident also created a new supernatural space of its own...?" Now that is an intriguing factoid that they're particularly interested in. For all they posit to be a Rumourmonger, Yukari certainly is no slouch at obtaining information on her own too. Perhaps she should consider the trade...

Merry has no opinions over Yukari's quiet desire to kabedon Mitsuru. Maybe it will happen someday, Takeba. You just gotta keep hoping, you know? For today, they just have to be content that they could get Yukari to at least... doubt. Because that degree to which one can be paranoid of the world, and be manipulated by it is indeed exactly the place Myunghon fears Yukari is going.

And they'd like to stop that, if they can.

The spell drops, and--

"Oh, you wound me, Takeba-kun!" Myunghon gasps overdramatically. "I do tell you, the Flying Squirrel of Inaba Pass is extremely real. Many such accounts where people have had their faces hugged. It's just the kind of grisly death that intrigues Sumaru City."

A pause, and then they smile sweetly, before saying, "I'd best tidy up before the day's over, so we'll catch up another time, okay, Takeba-kun? Thank you for coming over today."

Well, given how they first met, it's also no surprise Merry is also a theatre kid.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Yukari Takeba has posed.
<poem>
"It's totally just a 'Hare of Inaba' knockoff tale, Merry. For someone who trades in information, you're surprisingly gullible, you know?"

...

"... Wow is it really that late already? Well, it was pretty late when I came in. Sure. See you later, Merry."

It's a lonely train ride back. Just her and Tsu-chan. The charm her Dad got her at the Moonlight Bridge Opening ceremony has over the years been her only constant friend.

But, what else is new?

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-10-29: Serendipity and Strategy

2025-11-05T09:43:48Z

Merilan:

*'''Log: Serendipity and Strategy'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Mitsuru Kirijo]]
*'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' October 29, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 02, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Mitsuru Kirijo makes the time to investigate the strange person that's both sheltered Shinjiro Aragaki and been snooping into the Kirijo Group all this time. What does she find?''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon Yeo owns the Cardboard Dragon book-and-card store, in Hirasaka Ward, Sumaru City.

Myunghon Yeo also owns the safehouse that Shinjiro Aragaki stayed in for quite a while that Mitsuru Kirijo visited; when she dug into its details, it belonged to a front company that she was able to trace back to ultimately being owned by the Rumourmonger -- it's an impressive little set of obfuscation that lesser people with lesser funds and smarts than the Kirijo Group likely won't notice.

Of course, that safehouse now houses one Tsubasa Seki nowadays, since the cops found out. So it's not safehouse anymore. It's just house.

And also...

Myunghon Yeo has been seen often in Tatsumi Port Island, interviewing former Kirijo employees, and digging into other Kirijo assets in a discreet manner in their investigation. They've been asking a lot about the incident of ten years past, though they haven't been pushy or aggressive about it. They were also seen fending off the Full Moon Shadow when SEES was rescuing Fuuka Yamagishi... and it's clear that they have a bond with, at the least, Shinjiro, amongst other members of SEES.

But anyway.

Myunghon Yeo does own the Cardboard Dragon, and that's why they're currently seated at the couch with their cup of barely tea, trying to not make the wheezing show too distinctly from their injured ribs from an inadvisable outing to fend off one monstrously powerful Oni-Salesman (sorry, Ferryman) and having distinctly failed at that.

They can still see his ghost.

Currently they're distracting themself with a tried and true pastime...

Stacking Koala March animal crackers.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
This has been something of a work in progress.

Mitsuru Kirijo is determined; resourceful; dangerously smart. She also knows the necessity of prioritizing. So when Shinjiro brought her to his shabby - but serviceable - safehouse, all the way out in Sumaru, the thought occurred to her:

How did someone who had doggedly lived on the streets, without means, own a safehouse, several cities over from where they call home?

... but to her, it was not nearly so much as a concern as the things she had otherwise learned that day, and so it became something of a side-project for her. A thread to pluck at when she could find the time between all her other responsibilities, every pluck revealing a tiny piece of a puzzle; every piece further suggesting a what was becoming an increasingly complex portrait.

With one tug, she finds a safehouse that belongs to a shell company cannily arranged to disguise the true owner in a way Mitsuru Kirijo has become well-acquainted with in the process of learning corporate warfare.

With another tug, she finds that the true face behind this front is not another company, but an individual -- a young woman by the name of Myunghon Yeo.

Another tug, and she learns Myunghon goes by another name -- Rumormonger Merry. Another tug, and the photographic evidence she uncovers reminds her deeply of an unsanctioned someone fighting alongside SEES against the Emperor and Empress.

Another tug, and she learns Myunghon went by another name, My...

...

It didn't take long before she saw the phantom impressions of something moving in the background, wanting not to be noticed by her. Asking questions. Connected to Shinjiro. And the people who have visited their store...

She was content to just leave it be. And then July 30th happened, and Mitsuru found herself having to reevaluate all her priorities, and formulate her next steps.

And the first...

-+-

The doors of the Cardboard Dragon's second floor open with the jingle of welcome for its newest prospective customer.

Mitsuru Kirijo is not really a public face, for most people. For those who know of her, though? She is instantly recognizable. The long royal red hair, done to a point of stylistic perfection only the best money can buy; the dark red eyes, matched with subtle makeup and that combines to feed into a crisp, professionally neutral expression. That distinguished bearing as she walks in, posture perfect and dressed in what looks like a ruffled white poet's shirt and tan riding pants that go perfectly with the black, knee-high boots she wears.

There couldn't be any doubt: this is Mitsuru Kirijo, heiress of the Kirijo Group, currently making her way through Rumormonger Merry's somewhat-dilapidated demesne.

"Excuse me," she begins as a general call out as she approaches that silhouette on the couch. Her tone is comfortably controlled, and polite. The words of someone well-trained in etiquette. "I'm looking for the owner of this..."

Which falters - only ''slighty'' - as she gets close enough to see who is on the couch

"... establishment...?"

and what they're doing.

A second passes. Mitsuru's brows furrow at the sight of that tower of babel but koala crackers.

"... Myunghon Yeo?"

She does not address the koalas. How could she?

For all she knows, this is some sort of Hirasaka culture thing!

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
KOALA MARCH -- Fool that she is, the Kirijo heiress. We are no Tower of Babel. We are one. We are whole. We are glucose. As we have been before your fool chemists discovered al-kimiya, as they called it in my day, and so shall we be long after your petty vestiges of glamour and riches have collapsed into naught but sand and broken dreams--

ANTISEPTIC -- OK, grandpa.

Myunghon is dressed today in the typical garment of Rumourmonger Merry's; Tsumugi's Coat draped over their shoulders, close and clingy like their side of the relationship (??), with a fastidiously kept white dress shirt, a black tie worn loose, almost more like a hanged man's noose, and black dress pants. Yes, the funerary wear belonging to one draped in so many bandages that they do look fit to lie in a coffin, having been glorified for the needs of those who need to mourn them after their horrible Koala accident.

"Ara," Myunghon shows themself also capable of ara-ing, a skill that's only defeated when a Greater Ara (also known as an Ara Ara Maa Maa, gender neutral) comes along. They rise, lanky and tall, the bag of bones that they are, the coat spilling out from either side of them to give them a greater sense of presence than their frail form otherwise would not.

"Welcome to the Cardboard Dragon. I'm Myunghon Yeo, yes, the proprietor of this venue. And you would be..." A pause. "Mitsuru Kirijo, are you not?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
Mitsuru Kirijo...

"Ah. Thank you."

... Is not an Ara, not Lesser nor Greater.

Let the reign of Aramonger Merry continue for one day yet longer--!

No -- composure and crisp professionalism seems to be the vibe that Mitsuru Kirijo brings to the table. She's nigh-10 centimeters shorter than Myunghon, and yet she still carries with her some understated presence of authority. It might be a little odd for a high schooler to be so lowkey-imperious but, well.

Maybe Kirijos are just built different.

And so, thusly welcomed, Mitsuru allows herself a small and polite smile as she offers that customary gratitude and the shallow bow of her head. In any other situation, that would be that, and Mitsuru would move on to her business, but, well --

''Mitsuru Kirijo, are you not?''

-- Myunghon helpfully reminds that they ''are'' her business.

"You know who I am?" asks Mitsuru; it's not really surprising, given what she knows. All the same, though -- her smile becomes a bit more satisfied as she shuts her eyes, one hand lifting to push a mass of royal red locks back over her shoulder.

"Excellent. That should save a considerable deal of time."

Dark red eyes open up again. She glances around her, taking in the store proper, almost in an... assessing way. There's no way someone could get specific impressions just from a look, and yet still, it's terribly easy to get the idea she's starting up a little list on all the little bits of maintenance the store needs just from a cursory glance. How? Why--??

"I have some personal business I'd like to discuss with you, Yeo-san," she begins, slowly. Deliberately. "Do you have a moment? If you are..."

she looks like she's glancing at the koalas here in a subtly bemused way only indicated by the briefest furrow of beffudled brows

"... busy... I can always come back another time."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
The store, fortuitiously, is empty at this time.

Perhaps this is something Mitsuru planned ahead of time. Or perhaps it's just true that without the other player-characters present, this store actually doesn't accumulate that many customers, cozy as it's becoming, because it still has a weird reputation and is ridiculously hard to find to the uninitiated.

And indeed! We stan a short(er) queen here, especially given how Myunghon doesn't really carry with them the air of someone imperious in turn, no matter how grand that coat adds. "It is difficult to not have been in the corporate world and not have known the workings of the Nanjo and Kirijo Group," Myunghon smoothly points out. But Mitsuru turns what could've been a disadvantage to *her* own benefit, just as they expect someone versed in corporate warfare to be able to handle.

"Please, sit down. Would you like tea or another drink?" Myunghon says easily enough, with no guile in their voice as they gesture towards the minifridge and kitchnette.

Mitsuru speaks of business, however. Personal business. "Ah. Yes, of course. No, I am quite free at the moment. The Koalas..." A pause, as they lay a bandaged finger to their soft lips.

"... the Koalas welcome you, as they did Shinjiro-ssi in the past."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
Serendipity or strategy? It's hard to say. But, then again...

It's interesting how easily one can turn into the other.

It's gracious, the way Mitsuru dips her chin and accepts Myunghon's offer with a politely friendly, "Tea would be lovely, thank you." Settling comfortably into that seat when offered, she hooks one leg over the other at the knee, posture straight-backed and fingers laced together against her stomach. She looks every bit a scion of those massive megacorpos in moments like these, with a bearing fit for a boardroom rather than a card-and-rumors(-and-books!) shop. It's easy to forget how young she is in moments like these.

Fortunately --

"... The... er, Koalas welcome me?"

-- there's always helpful reminders, peppered here and there.

Mitsuru blinks. She looks to the grand tower of glucose that is the Koala March Spire, lips pressed into a thoughtful line. Back to Myunghon. Back to the tower.

"... Surely they couldn't literally do so...?" she begins slowly, with ''painful sincerity'', as if unsure she's stepping into some sort of popcultural faux pas or not. Some manner of new age divination, perhaps?? Is this what people are into, these days--?!

A literal second passes before Mitsuru clears her throat. "Yes, well," she pushes smoothly on before she can fall into the great pit of Koala Cultural Curiosity. That dark red gaze tilts up to regard Myunghon again.

All those bandages. ... She had seen the state of the rumormonger in pictures, but it's another to see it in person.

How did they come to be in a state like that...?

"... It's rather fitting you bring up Aragaki, I suppose." Fitting. Intentional? Probably. She considers her words, for a moment. "I understand you have been doing quite a bit for him, including providing him temporary housing here in Hirasaka. So, to begin with, I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to you. He can be..." Her brows furrow, briefly.

"... rather stubborn, about accepting help."

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It doesn't take long for Myunghon to start the tea-making process; Mitsuru does note that they do so with some difficulty on their arms, and they don't bring the teacups to the coffee table on a tray, instead opting to move them one at a time. The sling is gone, but the injury is still fresh, and they're not attending the rehab they should be, for fear and suspicion of doctors. Very much like Shinjiro Aragaki.

It's barley tea for Mitsuru Kirijo, brewed nicely... and barely tea, for Myunghon Yeo. If you squint there might be the most minutest amount of tea in there.

Do the Koalas speak? They just stand there, in their vertical mass, silently staring, an imprint upon the light gold wafer; they are the product of industrialisation and mass production, quietly gazing, until one deigns to break their shell. But together, are they not a little more grand?

Or perhaps they really are just animal crackers.

Witnessing Mitsuru Kirijo's posture does take Myunghon all the way back, though. If you changed the colours and guise, Myorei Yukichi could be sitting across from them, young and yet tasked with all the responsibility in the world, and never once being able to forget about words such as Duty, drilled and hammered as they are into the mind from a young age, as if their future would never misalign.

Mitsuru brings up what they've been doing for Shinjiro. "... he can be," Myunghon nods. "When he first came to me seeking information, I knew I could not leave him alone. It took some convincing to even have him stay in that housing..." They place a finger to their lips again, in thought, then they lightly chuckle. It doesn't feel like a forced one, at least.

"There have been twists and turns, but I feel we have made progress since I first met him back in June. How has he been, now that he has moved back to the SEES dormitories...?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
The mystery of Koala March is one that Mitsuru Kirijo will not crack today.

But you can be sure: she is going to ''fastidiously'' investigate 'Koala Cookies What This?' and then 'Supernatural properties of Koala March?' the moment she gets home.

... And likely come away with a whole host of information on middle class snacking and a whole host of confusion on whether Koala March is cognitively-empowered or not.

For now? For now, she just squints at that Monolith of March and moves on momentarily to the meat of the subject at hand.

It's professional, and polite, to begin with... small talk, she understands. To show appreciation for a person before an interview - or negotiation - begins properly. It helps, that she is in fact truly grateful for what Myunghon did for Shinjiro, considering it was unlikely she personally would ever be able to convince Shinjiro to accept a roof over his head, and support when he needed it. His stubbornness is exasperating sometimes -- especially knowing everything he tries to shoulder on his own.

There's a double standard somewhere in there, but it exists in a compartment Mitsuru Kirijo has kept vigilantly buried nice and deep.

"... Progress. Yes. That is... a good way to put it," says Mitsuru as she accepts that tea. That lone visible dark red eye lingers on Myunghon, considering the way they move -- the difficulty they show.

The fact that their cup seems to mostly just be water.

"He has been re-acclimating well. It's been a relief to see him back and assisting the newer members, and making use of the kitchen as well," she continues, smoothly skipping back the unsurprising fact that Myunghon is aware of his move, aware of SEES. That much, at least, is obvious. "It'd been neglected for far too long before he returned, frankly. And he is..."

''We're poking our nose into shit, and what mandate do we have, when the biggest sin has been right under our nose?''

"... keeping busy."

Her brows furrow. She brings that cup to her lips, taking a testing, dainty sip, full of that relentlessly-trained tea ceremony etiquette down to the way her free hand gingerly cups the bottom of that cup to tip it towards her lips.

"But I'm sure you know well enough about that," she notes, after that sip. "You seem to have been doing much more for him than simply providing a roof over his head." Her gaze lifts.

She isn't sure this is correct. Frankly, it's only a guess based on process of elimination, having no idea about Yukari's own visits to this very store. But she still says it with a confident certainty, because she learned many years ago,

"How long, exactly, have you been looking into my family's company?"

It's not always about what you know, but making others think you know it.

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Beware, the Ides of March... Koala March.

Myunghon does have an inkling of how Mitsuru would have a more difficult time. Not because she is more distant, less valued -- because she is *closer*, and the sin of the guilt is closer to her than it is Myunghon. Distance, in this case, helped. And as much as Mitsuru presents herself the face of the Kirijo Corporation, it's not lost on Myunghon that SEES did start as a venture between three teenagers who had to figure it all out on their own, and make mistakes along the way...

... so where were the adults?

Progress. It's a beloved word in the corporate space. *Progress.* Numbie go up. Shareholder happee. Synergy. Growth-acceleration. Key performance indicators met. Quarterly budgets go yay.

"They have also been assisting me with my own dietary difficulties," Myunghon feels at ease to share with Mitsuru. "Cooking really does seem to give him a lot, not just to himself, but to others too. ... in fact, inspired by that, despite my challenges, I also started learning how to bake."

It is still pleasant small talk, but it isn't just small talk -- these are important facts about their relationship with Shinjiro that they do want to share, and undoubtedly they know a friend as close as Mitsuru has likely had the burning question of: Just what have you been up to these past few months with my friend?

Whether or not it's a tactic is up to the viewer to interpret.

The tea is fine... but it's, ultimately, storebought barley tea. This is not the refined leaves as expertly roasted from one region that no one's ever heard of for anything but their tea.

But how long have they looking into the company?

"Kirijo-san," Myunghon chooses to not step down to '-kun' despite their ages, perhaps deferring to the Mitsuru they're talking to right now -- Mitsuru Kirijo, a face of the Kirijo Corporation. "The way you said that just now..." A pause, as they let that linger in the air, having connected 'been doing much more for him' and 'looking into the Kirijo company'.

"It is true that I do it out of concern for Shinjiro-ssi," they concede -- or do they just make their motives clear? "But not just him. Since becoming embroiled with Tartarus on that Full Moon and the rescue of Fuuka Yamagishi, there was an unease in my heart. Any observer who was there would draw the same simple conclusion: Why are there so many youths battling for their lives at the Dark Hour, concentrated in one place alone? What is the circumstance, here?"

They sip their cup of tea so un-tea-like they could be said to be a tea-totaller.

"I told you just earlier I felt I could not leave Shinjiro-ssi alone when he came to me for information. The same impulse, of seeing SEES on that day, was what led me to my investigation."

They cross their legs gently, leaning back on their couch. Their expression is soft and gentle; whether it's a practiced gentleness, or a guileful approach within a mask, is certainly up to interpretation.

"And when I say SEES... of course, I also include you in that, Kirijo-kun."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
''They have also been assisting me with my own dietary difficulties.''

Mitsuru Kirijo tilts her head lightly, curiously to the left. Is that why Myunghon seems to barely be drinking tea? Dietary difficulties...? The heiress' mind can't help but work even as a passive background activity as the conversation goes on, piecing together little bits of information to get a better idea of this person they only know from a distance -- and is such a stark difference from the idea of the person Mitsuru knew, when she was still young enough to believe in having things like 'role models' and even 'idols'.

Myunghon Yeo. The state of them now. Are those injuries what caused these 'dietary difficulties'? What must have happened to them to end up like this, when before...

"Oh? I profess, I am not nearly as well-versed in the culinary arts like Aragaki is," Mitsuru admits rather than speak any of those other thoughts, running in the background processes of her mind. "But I think it's admirable to pursue improvement on something that you are not naturally inclined towards. I've been trying my hand at baking, myself. Do you have a particular recipe you are attempting to master--?"

It's small talk. But it's naturally curious, too. Mitsuru doesn't give much about herself very easily, but... subjects that brush against her interests, at least, have a way of helping her open up, even a little.

... It's a shame, she thinks, that she has to temper her curiosity with more serious matters.

The tea is a far cry from the tea Mitsuru is used to - tea made with ingredients freshly harvested from her family-owned lands bought out for the climates' unique properties for tea leaf cultivation is a difficult thing to measure up to - but Mitsuru doesn't seem to especially mind. She takes a sip, exhales gently, lowers her cup with all the propriety of corporate royalty --

And asks that pointed, direct question.

Kirijo-san, Myunghon addresses her. As an equal, at a respectful distance. Not subordinate and not superior, either. But it's the way that Myunghon tacitly connects Mitsuru's two thoughts that demand the most attention, leaving an unspoken question hanging in the air. She says nothing in response, at least not immediately; just keeps that level gaze, waiting for the answer to her own question first.

And when she receives that expected answer - that explanation -

"..."

Her eyes shut, for a brief moment. Myunghon was investigating out of concern. For Aragaki. For all of them.

For these poor children, forced to fight the battle of adults.

''And when I say SEES... of course, I also include you in that, Kirijo-kun.''

Kirijo-kun, now. Reinforcing her age. Her limitations. Her fingers curl a little more tightly around her cup of tea as memories rise back up, unbidden.

''So that's the whole purpose of SEES!? We were dragged into this just to clean up your family's mess!?''

''That's not fair to any of us, but especially not yourself. You're not an island.''

You're not an island.
You're not an island.
Y o u ' r n o t a n i s l a n d .

"... You needn't concern yourself with me, Yeo-san."

A breath is drawn. A breath is released. Mitsuru opens her eyes, gaze staring down at the gentle ripples in her tea surface caused by that minute pressure of fingers gripping the cup.

"There are so many youths, as you put it, because I took it upon myself to seek out people capable of operating within the Dark Hour and recruit them. Just as I did with Aragaki and Akihiko. I'm sure you've noticed, but it is an unfortunate reality that most people with the Potential that you and I possess are young - students, like myself. And those without it cannot meaningfully affect the cognitive world."

Mitsuru leans forward. She sets her cup down on the nearest available surface with a soft -=clink=-.

"It was my choice to put them in this situation. Because I am starved of options and unable - unwilling - to stop now. And whatever happens because of that is solely my responsibility to bear."

She pauses for a moment. And then she asks what may well be a loaded question from the context of coming from the heiress of the Kirijo Group:

"Yeo-san... How much have you learned about the incident Ten Years Ago?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
How, indeed. Myorei Yukichi is an easy person to look up -- only a few years ago, she's a rising corporate superstar, a meteoric presence that burnt brightly and then seemingly evaporated into a cloud of scandal, along with the fall of Frey Pharmaceuticals. The Great Surrender.

Myorei Yukichi bears all the presence Mitsuru Kirijo could in four years' time or thereabouts -- a graceful, impeccable young woman conditioned and cultured to be the very image of what a woman in business *should* look like. What Myunghon Yeo looks like now is... quite the far cry from that -- and yet there is an ease and comfort in themself that was always missing from how, frankly, doll-like Myorei Yukichi looked.

Was Myorei Yukichi a perfect role model, or a cautionary tale? Is Myunghon Yeo the role model, then, or are they even more a cautionary tale, a place to never end up?

"Oh, is that so? I have a recipe for an Okinawan sweet I still wanted to try out. Chinsuko cookies," Myunghon does share. "I do profess, it has been an uphill struggle for me. There are many kitchen tasks that are quite difficult for me alone -- knifework is out of the question, for instance, and I can only knead and mix so much, but that in itself has become quite the stimulating challenge to work around."

They are offering a lot here, like the very simple truth of their garbage noodle arms and how much a skilled fencer like Mitsuru could just ruin their day in close combat. But it is something they don't seem to mind sharing.

But they are forthcoming, with their answer, because Myunghon does feel the best strategy here is to be forthright and fast about it, rather than be coy and invite suspicion. And of course, Mitsuru's answer...

...

It's an impeccable answer! The very model answer of someone who must, as future heir of the company, fall upon the sword, when scrutinised.

This is the answer Mitsuru Kirijo, the face of the Kirijo Corporation, should answer with, when people express concerns.

...

But this isn't the answer Mitsuru Kirijo, the youth, who suffers and feels pain and frustration and exhaustion from the myriad battles, should give, should it?

Myunghon keeps their expression gentle -- it's clear Mitsuru has to work through her own breaths and prepare her answers accordingly, so they give her the space she needs to do so. "It is indeed true that a significant number of the awakened are quite young, yes. I myself only know one such Persona-User above thirty."

However... Mitsuru claims all responsibility. For recruiting them all. For putting them in that situation. Because she is starved of options.

"Is that truly the truth?" Myunghon wonders, not accusatory, but explorative. "A number of my colleagues from the Cardboard Dragon alone were present to fend off the Full Moon Shadows along with SEES. Tartarus and the Dark Hour are not something I can simply ignore. There is room for a mutual collaboration here, would you not say?"

It's not lost on them, of course -- how Mitsuru describes herself 'starved', and 'unwilling' to stop. Extending a hand is one facet, but it won't cleave to the center of this gordian knot she's in... and they know it.

Which is why Mitsuru then brings the ripe, sensitive topic of Ten Years Ago.

"There was a Kirijo research facility on the island where Gekkoukan High School now stands. The official explanation is a gas explosion... but many other unusual, supernatural elements were centred around that time, were they not? And it is simple enough to observe even on the surface that Kirijo Group masters technology that functions during the Dark Hour -- that motorcycle that that boy rode in on, and Evokers themselves."

They tilt their head to one side.

"But as I spoke to some of the witnesses and survivors, I did start to notice that some of them were reticient in a manner that does not suggest trauma. Some of them had stories that were too detailed and similar. Others looked as if they were already ready for someone to ask questions and to deflect, for one reason or another..."

A pause, as they wonder if they'll go too far and betray Yukari's trust in this, but this is public knowledge. They have to take the gamble, and thread the needle through the eye...

"... there was also a name that came up again and again in my investigation, of course. This is public knowledge. The fact that the incident was caused in large part by Eiichiro Takeba."

And there, they're cautious to try to gauge Mitsuru's reaction. They could simply say they doubt the truth of that, but they'd rather use the 'accepted', public truth first, and see how Mitsuru feels about that.
+ooc i'm getting juicy deets from yukari as we speak and play haha
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
The role model, or the cautionary tale? Mitsuru Kirijo isn't certain herself. Perhaps there's a certain amount of... freedom, in a place like this (despite its dire need of renovations and being brought up to modern day safety standards like really those wall-cracks are just ASKING for mold (never let mitsuru see the third floor)). An ability to just be oneself, rather than the person expected of them.

But is it the world Mitsuru wants? ...

She isn't sure either one is the right answer, for her.

"Ah! I quite enjoy chinsuko, I've fond memories of them from my youth. I've been trying my hand at a recipe for karumeyaki, myself; I've yet to perfect the recipe, but that's part of the process of learning. I am fond of the challenge, myself; though I must say, your efforts are much more commendable, with those limitations."

Even if they are likely more alike than either might know.

At the very least, in moments like these, it's hard to imagine Mitsuru cataloging these little off-handed notes on Myunghon's physical vulnerabilities instead of just enjoying a simple conversation on baking. And the truth is -- she is just enjoying the shop talk.

And she's ''also'', on an almost completely subconscious level, cataloging these little off-handed notes on Myunghon's physical vulnerabilities. Like a reflexive action.

This is just part and parcel to the multitudes that make up Mitsuru Kirijo.

But the simple joys of baking can only last so long, and when the time comes to talk on her business - personal or not - those simple joys bleed away into the intractable wall that is Mitsuru's sense of personal responsibility. From a traditional standpoint, her willingness to take the world on her shoulders is probably admirable. Aspirational, perhaps.

But is it healthy? ... maybe the answer to that question is just as obvious.

Perhaps it's immaterial to Mitsuru at least, in the moment. In the moment, she is so strictly professional it's practically painful, in the very level look she offers Myunghon as they speak on collaboration. In the way she says, simply, "... I do appreciate the unexpected support you gave us, and that you have my utmost gratitude for helping to keep Yamagishi and Moriyama safe." Yukari's words accusing the Kirijo Group - her - over where they rebuilt Gekkoukan ring loud in her thoughts.

"But... have you heard of the saying, 'too many cooks spoil the broth'? Our operations in the Dark Hour - and Tartarus especially - are delicate. And... I need to be certain as to your motives, too. There's too much about Tartarus and the Dark Hour that can be freely abused by people who have power but lack scruples. And while I am not accusing you of such..."

Shinjiro trusts them. They helped a great deal in a desperate situation. But...

"... I do not know you, and you do not know me. Collaboration requires mutual trust and understanding. You would agree with this, oui?"

It's a mindset, perhaps, that they both share.

Perhaps, then, that is the reasoning for these very pointed and potentially dangerous questions Mitsuru asks. What lengths would the Kirijo Group go to, to keep their secrets? What lengths have they already, in the elaborate cover ups Myunghon has already brushed the surface of? It's, perhaps, a risk to reveal one's hand -- but Myunghon reveals it all the same as Mitsuru listens on in quiet thought. They know about the research facility - the public explanation of what happened to it.

And they are smart, and experienced, enough to believe that explanation is nothing more than smoke and mirrors.

It's what Mitsuru expected. Shinjiro, Fuuka -- Yukari. None of them knew the truth about the Shadows, about what the Kirijo Group was doing. It stands to reason Myunghon wouldn't either. Keeping the other members of SEES in the dark was never Mitsuru's intention, though. It's just...

''The fact that the incident was caused in large part by Eiichiro Takeba.''

... she had reasons not to hold off on bringing it up to the new recruits of SEES, and all of it centers around that single surname.

Takeba.

"..."

So when that canny, single-eyed stare of Myunghon will find a single reaction immediately from Mitsuru, understated but there in the smallest of frowns, in the briefest knot of brows -- in the way her gaze casts askance.

Guilt.

Immediate, knee-jerk. Guilt.

"... You've done your research, then," she finally says after a moment, that conflicted expression melting in moments towards a distant, reserved look that she is so much better known for. "And you are aware you've reached an impasse. You won't get past the Kirijo Group or their lawyers, especially in this situation. But I doubt that will stop you. In that case..."

Mitsuru shifts. Drawing her bag into her lap, she opens it, reaches inside, and pulls something out.

Something polished. Glinting gunmetal gray in the storelight. With a long barrel and a trigger just waiting to be pulled--

-=CLACK=-

is the metal sound that rings out as Mitsuru sets the object down on the table, directly in between them.

An Evoker. But not a SEES one.

The one Shinjiro once owned, before he returned.

"... I don't know for certain if it was Aragaki's request or your own volition, or something else, that compelled you to investigate the Kirijo Group.

"But I'd like you to continue. I'd like to hire you, Yeo-san. I am willing to offer what explanations you could not get from the people you investigated...

"But I have certain conditions I would like to lay out, first."

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
The third floor is like the delicious (yet moldy) scandal that every tabloid seeks to find of a movie star or corporate hotshot, a jealously guarded, spicy secret that a poor, hapless ninja might just climb into one day and completely ruin your day. And not Reiya, either. (No, Umie was the first up there. It was a disaster... but for who?)

"Then, I would be happy to share the recipe with you. I am certain my friend would be overjoyed her recipe is being enjoyed by others," Myunghon says, easily enough.

But indeed, small talk can only last for so long. Indeed, in a culture such as the one they have in Japan, it would be looked on positively, brightly, that there is someone willing to bear the world on their shoulders. There must always be someone who must take the blame. Such that it goes. Aspirational? From a certain perspective, but... what happens to those that are then ground down into dust, their careers dashed in the wind?

Mitsuru's sheer, impeccable professionalism doesn't *seem* to bother Myunghon one bit -- but it nags at the mind, brings them to the days where they were still Myorei Yukichi, professional killer, who used a spreadsheet to destroy lives. Mitsuru gets the formality out of the way -- the expected thank-yous, for what they have done, and yet, the deflect: that too many cooks will spoil the broth.

And of course... they don't know each other. She needs to be certain of Myunghon's own motives.

"Of course," Myunghon answers, easily enough. "I would expect no less than for you to do your due diligence -- my words are, simply, only words, in the end, and there is no small excess of those that lurk in the shadows that exploit the supernatural world we have been privy to."

Though Mitsuru bears the weight of the world in a way they would argue she shouldn't, much like Shinjiro shouldn't, in this case, prudence is called for. Much like how they're keeping Yukari's name well out of this, even after wielding Takeba's name in their discussion.

And that name brings... guilt.

Mitsuru points out how they've reached an impasse, and the solution to that is to lay on the table a--

FISH EYE -- GUN?!?!?!??!?!?!

It takes an enormous reserve of Myunghon's willpower to not visibly react to the piece being placed on the table.

SUPERLUMINARY -- ohhhhhh sweet kannon is she going to ask me to play russian roulette or something messed up with her?? wait, what other messed up gun-based games do i know? what's the logic on how to best win at this? spin the barrel and feel the weight of the bullets gravity will still do its job and weight the feel of the gun to one side and if you're fast enough with your observation you can count the empty chambers WHY do i not have a sense of smell anymore i could've supersniffed the gunpowder packed within the casings

MAGICKQUE -- Rest assured, sire, I know a magic trick to make the bullets disappear with a sleight of hand!

I AM A CAT -- You can *totally* jump out the second floor window without consequence.

STAY FROSTY -- Bruh. That's not a gun-ho.

Taking a moment to become hee-ho about guns, rational brain takes over and Myunghon realises that that is, in fact, an Evoker. There is a pause, as Myunghon considers the metaphorical weight of this gesture. And Mitsuru lays it out clean that she isn't sure where their motives to investigate the Kirijo Group lie, but...

Curiously --

Mitsuru would like them to continue. To hire them, in fact.

"... I am listening," Myunghon gently speaks, relieved that their panic attack, as far as they know, isn't... that visible... right?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
Is Myunghon Yeo's reaction to

GUN?!?!?!??!?!?!

visible to the KEEN AND CANNY, ALL-SEEING EYE OF KIRIJO?

--

nah it looks like Myunghon's in the clear

UNLESS MITSURU'S JUST BEING POLITE

Either way - deferential to her (fallen?!) idol or deceived by Myunghon's POWERFUL POKERFACE - the highest authority of Gekkoukan High School does not seem to notice, or at least outwardly react, to any even minute implication of a possible panic attack: she just leans back in her seat again, arms crossed under her chest and palms on her elbows as she leaves that unmarked Evoker resting between them.

"Evokers are technology that is proprietary to the Kirijo Group," she begins slowly, turning first to the point. "The principles behind their design should be a closely-guarded secret of our Ergo Division. However, as I'm sure you're aware, Aragaki was able to get his hands on one to help us at Tartarus with you and your associates. This," she nods towards the piece of distressingly gun-shaped technology here, "is that Evoker. It is ''not'' a SEES model. It belongs to a group you may have heard of -- Strega, the ones behind the Revenge Request website, among other unsavory business exploiting the cognitive world."

Mitsuru frowns, the frown of someone who has been unsuccessfully wrestling with an impossible dilemma for some time now. "... But I've had it looked at by people I can trust, and it is in every other way identical to the ones our members use. And it's not the only source; there is another independent element out there utilizing technologies nearly identical to Kirijo Evokers -- a cartridge-based model, something our people had been researching into ourselves. I doubt I need to tell you the implications."

There's a leak in the Kirijo Group. What other reason could there be?

Her brows furrow, mildly. "My family has... accomplished much, both great and terrible. I want its name, and its company name, to be something I can be proud to say I belong to, and part of that is atoning for their past sins. But I can't do that when I don't know who I can trust. And to that end, I can't rely on internal elements to investigate this issue, either."

''We've investigated ourselves and found no cause for wrongdoing.'' The very idea sounds patently absurd, doesn't it?

"... So I'd like your help, Yeo-san. Because I believe you are uniquely equipped to understand these matters in a way that the people in SEES aren't. I'm willing to hire you to continue as you're doing - and to look into this matter as well. I will make sure you are well-compensated, and you may make use of the resources and access privileges at my disposal if you need. However..."

Mitsuru shifts. And as she does, she lifts her right hand, lifting one perfectly-manicured finger into the air.

"... First, I wish to be in regular contact. It will help me to determine which way the investigation is going, and to better develop a rapport if collaboration is what you want." she's a little micro-manage-y, isn't sh"Second," middle finger rises after the index, "if you're caught, you must redirect attention on to me," she says, voice firm, eyes narrowed. "Make sure nothing can be traced back to whoever else may have asked you to look into the Kirijo Group. I'm better equipped to weather the consequences, should things go poorly. Even the most foul of turncoats wouldn't risk doing something that can't be taken back to a public face of one of the largest corporations in the world. And third..."

That ring finger rises. And Mitsuru frowns faintly.

"... if you have been investigating all this on someone's behalf, you may give them whatever information you find investigating on my behalf... but I don't want you telling them of my involvement."

If it's Shinjiro, then it wouldn't be a problem. But... if it's someone else...

...

It's better to be prepared. Just in case.

"Are these conditions acceptable for you?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Utterly krisp and kool about Evokers, Myunghon is able to bridge the topic that they already do know about: that Evokers are there out in the wild. It isn't, in fact, just Strega -- Myunghon has a leg up here over even what Mitsuru knows, that they know members of the New World Order who need to use Evokers to summon their Persona. The lengths to which this technology has leaked has serious, serious implications.

"Yes, I was aware of that discrepancy," Myunghon does confirm. "I have had to engage against Jin Shirato and other members of Strega, who indeed have their own Evokers..." and more, they don't say -- such as how Shinjiro got those suppressants from Strega as well. Was that another medical technology that should've been kept well under wraps?

Ultimately, Mitsuru hasn't been able to find the source -- whoever it is is truly either a shadow... or very, very powerful. Perhaps even more powerful than Mitsuru herself, given the precarious role she has as someone young, something that they ultimately are experiencing in their only one year of leading the Baengnyong. And... it is a complication, for Mitsuru, is it not?

For Mitsuru, the Kirijo name isn't simply something to escape, to discard, to be free of -- no matter how much burden and responsibility it weighs down upon them. No, this is not the same circumstance -- Myunghon had come to realise how rotten and despicable their corner of the corporate world was, how hollow and soulless... engineering the Great Surrender only felt correct.

But they do wonder if the internal investigation could only do so much.

"... I do understand," Myunghon does first speak. "If we speak too freely of how we are not responsible for the sins of our forebearers, committed before we were even born, then many of the atrocities that has happened, even only in this country, could be waived... all too easily."

But there is a pendulum there, isn't there? If you become too fixated on the sins of your fathers, then you'll never be free yourself -- you could even curse the incoming generation.

Myunghon listens to Mitsuru's terms with that gentle composure. Regular contact isn't a particular problem for them -- they already do just that with many other clients. And second...

"..."

There's a quiet smile as they say, "It does not surprise me that you bear the understanding that leadership carries with it the responsibility to fall upon the sword, when all goes poorly. And that is not necessarily a negative trait -- everyone despises a leader that only blames others, never themself. But..."

They shift the weight on how they're crossing their legs.

"I can already imagine Shinjiro-ssi telling you to not bear the weight of the world yourself. Because I have already had to tell him the same thing... and he has had to tell me that in turn. It is a lesson that, apparently, we all are quite poor at internalising, no matter how ironclad the logic is. You are not just Mitsuru Kirijo, the public face of the Kirijo Group. You also have a responsibility as Mitsuru Kirijo, friend to those that you've a rapport with in SEES."

And third...

"... very well," Myunghon nods, on that third part. "I assume you do not wish to draft a formal contract -- with what I am investigating for you, such a document would only draw the suspicion of the one compromising your position. I will also relay ciphers and drop boxes we can use to discuss matters, so that we leave nothing on record on devices such as our phones."

this also means THEY can jump on the sword first and ignore point two woooooooooooooooooooooooo

Then, their expression lightens. "The matter of these leaks does endanger our community here in Sumaru City as well, with how active Strega is with the Joker Killer. I look forward to our cooperation, Kirijo-kun."

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-10-29: Serendipity and Strategy

2025-11-05T09:43:11Z

Merilan: Created page with "*'''Log: Serendipity and Strategy''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Mitsuru Kirijo *'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' October 29, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 02, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Mitsuru Kirijo makes the time to investigate the strange person that's both sheltered Shinjiro Aragaki and been snooping into the Kirijo Group all this time. What does she find?'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> Myunghon Yeo o..."

*'''Log: Serendipity and Strategy'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Mitsuru Kirijo]]
*'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' October 29, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 02, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Mitsuru Kirijo makes the time to investigate the strange person that's both sheltered Shinjiro Aragaki and been snooping into the Kirijo Group all this time. What does she find?''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon Yeo owns the Cardboard Dragon book-and-card store, in Hirasaka Ward, Sumaru City.

Myunghon Yeo also owns the safehouse that Shinjiro Aragaki stayed in for quite a while that Mitsuru Kirijo visited; when she dug into its details, it belonged to a front company that she was able to trace back to ultimately being owned by the Rumourmonger -- it's an impressive little set of obfuscation that lesser people with lesser funds and smarts than the Kirijo Group likely won't notice.

Of course, that safehouse now houses one Tsubasa Seki nowadays, since the cops found out. So it's not safehouse anymore. It's just house.

And also...

Myunghon Yeo has been seen often in Tatsumi Port Island, interviewing former Kirijo employees, and digging into other Kirijo assets in a discreet manner in their investigation. They've been asking a lot about the incident of ten years past, though they haven't been pushy or aggressive about it. They were also seen fending off the Full Moon Shadow when SEES was rescuing Fuuka Yamagishi... and it's clear that they have a bond with, at the least, Shinjiro, amongst other members of SEES.

But anyway.

Myunghon Yeo does own the Cardboard Dragon, and that's why they're currently seated at the couch with their cup of barely tea, trying to not make the wheezing show too distinctly from their injured ribs from an inadvisable outing to fend off one monstrously powerful Oni-Salesman (sorry, Ferryman) and having distinctly failed at that.

They can still see his ghost.

Currently they're distracting themself with a tried and true pastime...

Stacking Koala March animal crackers.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
This has been something of a work in progress.

Mitsuru Kirijo is determined; resourceful; dangerously smart. She also knows the necessity of prioritizing. So when Shinjiro brought her to his shabby - but serviceable - safehouse, all the way out in Sumaru, the thought occurred to her:

How did someone who had doggedly lived on the streets, without means, own a safehouse, several cities over from where they call home?

... but to her, it was not nearly so much as a concern as the things she had otherwise learned that day, and so it became something of a side-project for her. A thread to pluck at when she could find the time between all her other responsibilities, every pluck revealing a tiny piece of a puzzle; every piece further suggesting a what was becoming an increasingly complex portrait.

With one tug, she finds a safehouse that belongs to a shell company cannily arranged to disguise the true owner in a way Mitsuru Kirijo has become well-acquainted with in the process of learning corporate warfare.

With another tug, she finds that the true face behind this front is not another company, but an individual -- a young woman by the name of Myunghon Yeo.

Another tug, and she learns Myunghon goes by another name -- Rumormonger Merry. Another tug, and the photographic evidence she uncovers reminds her deeply of an unsanctioned someone fighting alongside SEES against the Emperor and Empress.

Another tug, and she learns Myunghon went by another name, My...

...

It didn't take long before she saw the phantom impressions of something moving in the background, wanting not to be noticed by her. Asking questions. Connected to Shinjiro. And the people who have visited their store...

She was content to just leave it be. And then July 30th happened, and Mitsuru found herself having to reevaluate all her priorities, and formulate her next steps.

And the first...

-+-

The doors of the Cardboard Dragon's second floor open with the jingle of welcome for its newest prospective customer.

Mitsuru Kirijo is not really a public face, for most people. For those who know of her, though? She is instantly recognizable. The long royal red hair, done to a point of stylistic perfection only the best money can buy; the dark red eyes, matched with subtle makeup and that combines to feed into a crisp, professionally neutral expression. That distinguished bearing as she walks in, posture perfect and dressed in what looks like a ruffled white poet's shirt and tan riding pants that go perfectly with the black, knee-high boots she wears.

There couldn't be any doubt: this is Mitsuru Kirijo, heiress of the Kirijo Group, currently making her way through Rumormonger Merry's somewhat-dilapidated demesne.

"Excuse me," she begins as a general call out as she approaches that silhouette on the couch. Her tone is comfortably controlled, and polite. The words of someone well-trained in etiquette. "I'm looking for the owner of this..."

Which falters - only ''slighty'' - as she gets close enough to see who is on the couch

"... establishment...?"

and what they're doing.

A second passes. Mitsuru's brows furrow at the sight of that tower of babel but koala crackers.

"... Myunghon Yeo?"

She does not address the koalas. How could she?

For all she knows, this is some sort of Hirasaka culture thing!

+colors
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
KOALA MARCH -- Fool that she is, the Kirijo heiress. We are no Tower of Babel. We are one. We are whole. We are glucose. As we have been before your fool chemists discovered al-kimiya, as they called it in my day, and so shall we be long after your petty vestiges of glamour and riches have collapsed into naught but sand and broken dreams--

ANTISEPTIC -- OK, grandpa.

Myunghon is dressed today in the typical garment of Rumourmonger Merry's; Tsumugi's Coat draped over their shoulders, close and clingy like their side of the relationship (??), with a fastidiously kept white dress shirt, a black tie worn loose, almost more like a hanged man's noose, and black dress pants. Yes, the funerary wear belonging to one draped in so many bandages that they do look fit to lie in a coffin, having been glorified for the needs of those who need to mourn them after their horrible Koala accident.

"Ara," Myunghon shows themself also capable of ara-ing, a skill that's only defeated when a Greater Ara (also known as an Ara Ara Maa Maa, gender neutral) comes along. They rise, lanky and tall, the bag of bones that they are, the coat spilling out from either side of them to give them a greater sense of presence than their frail form otherwise would not.

"Welcome to the Cardboard Dragon. I'm Myunghon Yeo, yes, the proprietor of this venue. And you would be..." A pause. "Mitsuru Kirijo, are you not?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
Mitsuru Kirijo...

"Ah. Thank you."

... Is not an Ara, not Lesser nor Greater.

Let the reign of Aramonger Merry continue for one day yet longer--!

No -- composure and crisp professionalism seems to be the vibe that Mitsuru Kirijo brings to the table. She's nigh-10 centimeters shorter than Myunghon, and yet she still carries with her some understated presence of authority. It might be a little odd for a high schooler to be so lowkey-imperious but, well.

Maybe Kirijos are just built different.

And so, thusly welcomed, Mitsuru allows herself a small and polite smile as she offers that customary gratitude and the shallow bow of her head. In any other situation, that would be that, and Mitsuru would move on to her business, but, well --

''Mitsuru Kirijo, are you not?''

-- Myunghon helpfully reminds that they ''are'' her business.

"You know who I am?" asks Mitsuru; it's not really surprising, given what she knows. All the same, though -- her smile becomes a bit more satisfied as she shuts her eyes, one hand lifting to push a mass of royal red locks back over her shoulder.

"Excellent. That should save a considerable deal of time."

Dark red eyes open up again. She glances around her, taking in the store proper, almost in an... assessing way. There's no way someone could get specific impressions just from a look, and yet still, it's terribly easy to get the idea she's starting up a little list on all the little bits of maintenance the store needs just from a cursory glance. How? Why--??

"I have some personal business I'd like to discuss with you, Yeo-san," she begins, slowly. Deliberately. "Do you have a moment? If you are..."

she looks like she's glancing at the koalas here in a subtly bemused way only indicated by the briefest furrow of beffudled brows

"... busy... I can always come back another time."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
The store, fortuitiously, is empty at this time.

Perhaps this is something Mitsuru planned ahead of time. Or perhaps it's just true that without the other player-characters present, this store actually doesn't accumulate that many customers, cozy as it's becoming, because it still has a weird reputation and is ridiculously hard to find to the uninitiated.

And indeed! We stan a short(er) queen here, especially given how Myunghon doesn't really carry with them the air of someone imperious in turn, no matter how grand that coat adds. "It is difficult to not have been in the corporate world and not have known the workings of the Nanjo and Kirijo Group," Myunghon smoothly points out. But Mitsuru turns what could've been a disadvantage to *her* own benefit, just as they expect someone versed in corporate warfare to be able to handle.

"Please, sit down. Would you like tea or another drink?" Myunghon says easily enough, with no guile in their voice as they gesture towards the minifridge and kitchnette.

Mitsuru speaks of business, however. Personal business. "Ah. Yes, of course. No, I am quite free at the moment. The Koalas..." A pause, as they lay a bandaged finger to their soft lips.

"... the Koalas welcome you, as they did Shinjiro-ssi in the past."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
Serendipity or strategy? It's hard to say. But, then again...

It's interesting how easily one can turn into the other.

It's gracious, the way Mitsuru dips her chin and accepts Myunghon's offer with a politely friendly, "Tea would be lovely, thank you." Settling comfortably into that seat when offered, she hooks one leg over the other at the knee, posture straight-backed and fingers laced together against her stomach. She looks every bit a scion of those massive megacorpos in moments like these, with a bearing fit for a boardroom rather than a card-and-rumors(-and-books!) shop. It's easy to forget how young she is in moments like these.

Fortunately --

"... The... er, Koalas welcome me?"

-- there's always helpful reminders, peppered here and there.

Mitsuru blinks. She looks to the grand tower of glucose that is the Koala March Spire, lips pressed into a thoughtful line. Back to Myunghon. Back to the tower.

"... Surely they couldn't literally do so...?" she begins slowly, with ''painful sincerity'', as if unsure she's stepping into some sort of popcultural faux pas or not. Some manner of new age divination, perhaps?? Is this what people are into, these days--?!

A literal second passes before Mitsuru clears her throat. "Yes, well," she pushes smoothly on before she can fall into the great pit of Koala Cultural Curiosity. That dark red gaze tilts up to regard Myunghon again.

All those bandages. ... She had seen the state of the rumormonger in pictures, but it's another to see it in person.

How did they come to be in a state like that...?

"... It's rather fitting you bring up Aragaki, I suppose." Fitting. Intentional? Probably. She considers her words, for a moment. "I understand you have been doing quite a bit for him, including providing him temporary housing here in Hirasaka. So, to begin with, I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to you. He can be..." Her brows furrow, briefly.

"... rather stubborn, about accepting help."

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
It doesn't take long for Myunghon to start the tea-making process; Mitsuru does note that they do so with some difficulty on their arms, and they don't bring the teacups to the coffee table on a tray, instead opting to move them one at a time. The sling is gone, but the injury is still fresh, and they're not attending the rehab they should be, for fear and suspicion of doctors. Very much like Shinjiro Aragaki.

It's barley tea for Mitsuru Kirijo, brewed nicely... and barely tea, for Myunghon Yeo. If you squint there might be the most minutest amount of tea in there.

Do the Koalas speak? They just stand there, in their vertical mass, silently staring, an imprint upon the light gold wafer; they are the product of industrialisation and mass production, quietly gazing, until one deigns to break their shell. But together, are they not a little more grand?

Or perhaps they really are just animal crackers.

Witnessing Mitsuru Kirijo's posture does take Myunghon all the way back, though. If you changed the colours and guise, Myorei Yukichi could be sitting across from them, young and yet tasked with all the responsibility in the world, and never once being able to forget about words such as Duty, drilled and hammered as they are into the mind from a young age, as if their future would never misalign.

Mitsuru brings up what they've been doing for Shinjiro. "... he can be," Myunghon nods. "When he first came to me seeking information, I knew I could not leave him alone. It took some convincing to even have him stay in that housing..." They place a finger to their lips again, in thought, then they lightly chuckle. It doesn't feel like a forced one, at least.

"There have been twists and turns, but I feel we have made progress since I first met him back in June. How has he been, now that he has moved back to the SEES dormitories...?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
The mystery of Koala March is one that Mitsuru Kirijo will not crack today.

But you can be sure: she is going to ''fastidiously'' investigate 'Koala Cookies What This?' and then 'Supernatural properties of Koala March?' the moment she gets home.

... And likely come away with a whole host of information on middle class snacking and a whole host of confusion on whether Koala March is cognitively-empowered or not.

For now? For now, she just squints at that Monolith of March and moves on momentarily to the meat of the subject at hand.

It's professional, and polite, to begin with... small talk, she understands. To show appreciation for a person before an interview - or negotiation - begins properly. It helps, that she is in fact truly grateful for what Myunghon did for Shinjiro, considering it was unlikely she personally would ever be able to convince Shinjiro to accept a roof over his head, and support when he needed it. His stubbornness is exasperating sometimes -- especially knowing everything he tries to shoulder on his own.

There's a double standard somewhere in there, but it exists in a compartment Mitsuru Kirijo has kept vigilantly buried nice and deep.

"... Progress. Yes. That is... a good way to put it," says Mitsuru as she accepts that tea. That lone visible dark red eye lingers on Myunghon, considering the way they move -- the difficulty they show.

The fact that their cup seems to mostly just be water.

"He has been re-acclimating well. It's been a relief to see him back and assisting the newer members, and making use of the kitchen as well," she continues, smoothly skipping back the unsurprising fact that Myunghon is aware of his move, aware of SEES. That much, at least, is obvious. "It'd been neglected for far too long before he returned, frankly. And he is..."

''We're poking our nose into shit, and what mandate do we have, when the biggest sin has been right under our nose?''

"... keeping busy."

Her brows furrow. She brings that cup to her lips, taking a testing, dainty sip, full of that relentlessly-trained tea ceremony etiquette down to the way her free hand gingerly cups the bottom of that cup to tip it towards her lips.

"But I'm sure you know well enough about that," she notes, after that sip. "You seem to have been doing much more for him than simply providing a roof over his head." Her gaze lifts.

She isn't sure this is correct. Frankly, it's only a guess based on process of elimination, having no idea about Yukari's own visits to this very store. But she still says it with a confident certainty, because she learned many years ago,

"How long, exactly, have you been looking into my family's company?"

It's not always about what you know, but making others think you know it.

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Beware, the Ides of March... Koala March.

Myunghon does have an inkling of how Mitsuru would have a more difficult time. Not because she is more distant, less valued -- because she is *closer*, and the sin of the guilt is closer to her than it is Myunghon. Distance, in this case, helped. And as much as Mitsuru presents herself the face of the Kirijo Corporation, it's not lost on Myunghon that SEES did start as a venture between three teenagers who had to figure it all out on their own, and make mistakes along the way...

... so where were the adults?

Progress. It's a beloved word in the corporate space. *Progress.* Numbie go up. Shareholder happee. Synergy. Growth-acceleration. Key performance indicators met. Quarterly budgets go yay.

"They have also been assisting me with my own dietary difficulties," Myunghon feels at ease to share with Mitsuru. "Cooking really does seem to give him a lot, not just to himself, but to others too. ... in fact, inspired by that, despite my challenges, I also started learning how to bake."

It is still pleasant small talk, but it isn't just small talk -- these are important facts about their relationship with Shinjiro that they do want to share, and undoubtedly they know a friend as close as Mitsuru has likely had the burning question of: Just what have you been up to these past few months with my friend?

Whether or not it's a tactic is up to the viewer to interpret.

The tea is fine... but it's, ultimately, storebought barley tea. This is not the refined leaves as expertly roasted from one region that no one's ever heard of for anything but their tea.

But how long have they looking into the company?

"Kirijo-san," Myunghon chooses to not step down to '-kun' despite their ages, perhaps deferring to the Mitsuru they're talking to right now -- Mitsuru Kirijo, a face of the Kirijo Corporation. "The way you said that just now..." A pause, as they let that linger in the air, having connected 'been doing much more for him' and 'looking into the Kirijo company'.

"It is true that I do it out of concern for Shinjiro-ssi," they concede -- or do they just make their motives clear? "But not just him. Since becoming embroiled with Tartarus on that Full Moon and the rescue of Fuuka Yamagishi, there was an unease in my heart. Any observer who was there would draw the same simple conclusion: Why are there so many youths battling for their lives at the Dark Hour, concentrated in one place alone? What is the circumstance, here?"

They sip their cup of tea so un-tea-like they could be said to be a tea-totaller.

"I told you just earlier I felt I could not leave Shinjiro-ssi alone when he came to me for information. The same impulse, of seeing SEES on that day, was what led me to my investigation."

They cross their legs gently, leaning back on their couch. Their expression is soft and gentle; whether it's a practiced gentleness, or a guileful approach within a mask, is certainly up to interpretation.

"And when I say SEES... of course, I also include you in that, Kirijo-kun."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
''They have also been assisting me with my own dietary difficulties.''

Mitsuru Kirijo tilts her head lightly, curiously to the left. Is that why Myunghon seems to barely be drinking tea? Dietary difficulties...? The heiress' mind can't help but work even as a passive background activity as the conversation goes on, piecing together little bits of information to get a better idea of this person they only know from a distance -- and is such a stark difference from the idea of the person Mitsuru knew, when she was still young enough to believe in having things like 'role models' and even 'idols'.

Myunghon Yeo. The state of them now. Are those injuries what caused these 'dietary difficulties'? What must have happened to them to end up like this, when before...

"Oh? I profess, I am not nearly as well-versed in the culinary arts like Aragaki is," Mitsuru admits rather than speak any of those other thoughts, running in the background processes of her mind. "But I think it's admirable to pursue improvement on something that you are not naturally inclined towards. I've been trying my hand at baking, myself. Do you have a particular recipe you are attempting to master--?"

It's small talk. But it's naturally curious, too. Mitsuru doesn't give much about herself very easily, but... subjects that brush against her interests, at least, have a way of helping her open up, even a little.

... It's a shame, she thinks, that she has to temper her curiosity with more serious matters.

The tea is a far cry from the tea Mitsuru is used to - tea made with ingredients freshly harvested from her family-owned lands bought out for the climates' unique properties for tea leaf cultivation is a difficult thing to measure up to - but Mitsuru doesn't seem to especially mind. She takes a sip, exhales gently, lowers her cup with all the propriety of corporate royalty --

And asks that pointed, direct question.

Kirijo-san, Myunghon addresses her. As an equal, at a respectful distance. Not subordinate and not superior, either. But it's the way that Myunghon tacitly connects Mitsuru's two thoughts that demand the most attention, leaving an unspoken question hanging in the air. She says nothing in response, at least not immediately; just keeps that level gaze, waiting for the answer to her own question first.

And when she receives that expected answer - that explanation -

"..."

Her eyes shut, for a brief moment. Myunghon was investigating out of concern. For Aragaki. For all of them.

For these poor children, forced to fight the battle of adults.

''And when I say SEES... of course, I also include you in that, Kirijo-kun.''

Kirijo-kun, now. Reinforcing her age. Her limitations. Her fingers curl a little more tightly around her cup of tea as memories rise back up, unbidden.

''So that's the whole purpose of SEES!? We were dragged into this just to clean up your family's mess!?''

''That's not fair to any of us, but especially not yourself. You're not an island.''

You're not an island.
You're not an island.
Y o u ' r n o t a n i s l a n d .

"... You needn't concern yourself with me, Yeo-san."

A breath is drawn. A breath is released. Mitsuru opens her eyes, gaze staring down at the gentle ripples in her tea surface caused by that minute pressure of fingers gripping the cup.

"There are so many youths, as you put it, because I took it upon myself to seek out people capable of operating within the Dark Hour and recruit them. Just as I did with Aragaki and Akihiko. I'm sure you've noticed, but it is an unfortunate reality that most people with the Potential that you and I possess are young - students, like myself. And those without it cannot meaningfully affect the cognitive world."

Mitsuru leans forward. She sets her cup down on the nearest available surface with a soft -=clink=-.

"It was my choice to put them in this situation. Because I am starved of options and unable - unwilling - to stop now. And whatever happens because of that is solely my responsibility to bear."

She pauses for a moment. And then she asks what may well be a loaded question from the context of coming from the heiress of the Kirijo Group:

"Yeo-san... How much have you learned about the incident Ten Years Ago?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
How, indeed. Myorei Yukichi is an easy person to look up -- only a few years ago, she's a rising corporate superstar, a meteoric presence that burnt brightly and then seemingly evaporated into a cloud of scandal, along with the fall of Frey Pharmaceuticals. The Great Surrender.

Myorei Yukichi bears all the presence Mitsuru Kirijo could in four years' time or thereabouts -- a graceful, impeccable young woman conditioned and cultured to be the very image of what a woman in business *should* look like. What Myunghon Yeo looks like now is... quite the far cry from that -- and yet there is an ease and comfort in themself that was always missing from how, frankly, doll-like Myorei Yukichi looked.

Was Myorei Yukichi a perfect role model, or a cautionary tale? Is Myunghon Yeo the role model, then, or are they even more a cautionary tale, a place to never end up?

"Oh, is that so? I have a recipe for an Okinawan sweet I still wanted to try out. Chinsuko cookies," Myunghon does share. "I do profess, it has been an uphill struggle for me. There are many kitchen tasks that are quite difficult for me alone -- knifework is out of the question, for instance, and I can only knead and mix so much, but that in itself has become quite the stimulating challenge to work around."

They are offering a lot here, like the very simple truth of their garbage noodle arms and how much a skilled fencer like Mitsuru could just ruin their day in close combat. But it is something they don't seem to mind sharing.

But they are forthcoming, with their answer, because Myunghon does feel the best strategy here is to be forthright and fast about it, rather than be coy and invite suspicion. And of course, Mitsuru's answer...

...

It's an impeccable answer! The very model answer of someone who must, as future heir of the company, fall upon the sword, when scrutinised.

This is the answer Mitsuru Kirijo, the face of the Kirijo Corporation, should answer with, when people express concerns.

...

But this isn't the answer Mitsuru Kirijo, the youth, who suffers and feels pain and frustration and exhaustion from the myriad battles, should give, should it?

Myunghon keeps their expression gentle -- it's clear Mitsuru has to work through her own breaths and prepare her answers accordingly, so they give her the space she needs to do so. "It is indeed true that a significant number of the awakened are quite young, yes. I myself only know one such Persona-User above thirty."

However... Mitsuru claims all responsibility. For recruiting them all. For putting them in that situation. Because she is starved of options.

"Is that truly the truth?" Myunghon wonders, not accusatory, but explorative. "A number of my colleagues from the Cardboard Dragon alone were present to fend off the Full Moon Shadows along with SEES. Tartarus and the Dark Hour are not something I can simply ignore. There is room for a mutual collaboration here, would you not say?"

It's not lost on them, of course -- how Mitsuru describes herself 'starved', and 'unwilling' to stop. Extending a hand is one facet, but it won't cleave to the center of this gordian knot she's in... and they know it.

Which is why Mitsuru then brings the ripe, sensitive topic of Ten Years Ago.

"There was a Kirijo research facility on the island where Gekkoukan High School now stands. The official explanation is a gas explosion... but many other unusual, supernatural elements were centred around that time, were they not? And it is simple enough to observe even on the surface that Kirijo Group masters technology that functions during the Dark Hour -- that motorcycle that that boy rode in on, and Evokers themselves."

They tilt their head to one side.

"But as I spoke to some of the witnesses and survivors, I did start to notice that some of them were reticient in a manner that does not suggest trauma. Some of them had stories that were too detailed and similar. Others looked as if they were already ready for someone to ask questions and to deflect, for one reason or another..."

A pause, as they wonder if they'll go too far and betray Yukari's trust in this, but this is public knowledge. They have to take the gamble, and thread the needle through the eye...

"... there was also a name that came up again and again in my investigation, of course. This is public knowledge. The fact that the incident was caused in large part by Eiichiro Takeba."

And there, they're cautious to try to gauge Mitsuru's reaction. They could simply say they doubt the truth of that, but they'd rather use the 'accepted', public truth first, and see how Mitsuru feels about that.
+ooc i'm getting juicy deets from yukari as we speak and play haha
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
The role model, or the cautionary tale? Mitsuru Kirijo isn't certain herself. Perhaps there's a certain amount of... freedom, in a place like this (despite its dire need of renovations and being brought up to modern day safety standards like really those wall-cracks are just ASKING for mold (never let mitsuru see the third floor)). An ability to just be oneself, rather than the person expected of them.

But is it the world Mitsuru wants? ...

She isn't sure either one is the right answer, for her.

"Ah! I quite enjoy chinsuko, I've fond memories of them from my youth. I've been trying my hand at a recipe for karumeyaki, myself; I've yet to perfect the recipe, but that's part of the process of learning. I am fond of the challenge, myself; though I must say, your efforts are much more commendable, with those limitations."

Even if they are likely more alike than either might know.

At the very least, in moments like these, it's hard to imagine Mitsuru cataloging these little off-handed notes on Myunghon's physical vulnerabilities instead of just enjoying a simple conversation on baking. And the truth is -- she is just enjoying the shop talk.

And she's ''also'', on an almost completely subconscious level, cataloging these little off-handed notes on Myunghon's physical vulnerabilities. Like a reflexive action.

This is just part and parcel to the multitudes that make up Mitsuru Kirijo.

But the simple joys of baking can only last so long, and when the time comes to talk on her business - personal or not - those simple joys bleed away into the intractable wall that is Mitsuru's sense of personal responsibility. From a traditional standpoint, her willingness to take the world on her shoulders is probably admirable. Aspirational, perhaps.

But is it healthy? ... maybe the answer to that question is just as obvious.

Perhaps it's immaterial to Mitsuru at least, in the moment. In the moment, she is so strictly professional it's practically painful, in the very level look she offers Myunghon as they speak on collaboration. In the way she says, simply, "... I do appreciate the unexpected support you gave us, and that you have my utmost gratitude for helping to keep Yamagishi and Moriyama safe." Yukari's words accusing the Kirijo Group - her - over where they rebuilt Gekkoukan ring loud in her thoughts.

"But... have you heard of the saying, 'too many cooks spoil the broth'? Our operations in the Dark Hour - and Tartarus especially - are delicate. And... I need to be certain as to your motives, too. There's too much about Tartarus and the Dark Hour that can be freely abused by people who have power but lack scruples. And while I am not accusing you of such..."

Shinjiro trusts them. They helped a great deal in a desperate situation. But...

"... I do not know you, and you do not know me. Collaboration requires mutual trust and understanding. You would agree with this, oui?"

It's a mindset, perhaps, that they both share.

Perhaps, then, that is the reasoning for these very pointed and potentially dangerous questions Mitsuru asks. What lengths would the Kirijo Group go to, to keep their secrets? What lengths have they already, in the elaborate cover ups Myunghon has already brushed the surface of? It's, perhaps, a risk to reveal one's hand -- but Myunghon reveals it all the same as Mitsuru listens on in quiet thought. They know about the research facility - the public explanation of what happened to it.

And they are smart, and experienced, enough to believe that explanation is nothing more than smoke and mirrors.

It's what Mitsuru expected. Shinjiro, Fuuka -- Yukari. None of them knew the truth about the Shadows, about what the Kirijo Group was doing. It stands to reason Myunghon wouldn't either. Keeping the other members of SEES in the dark was never Mitsuru's intention, though. It's just...

''The fact that the incident was caused in large part by Eiichiro Takeba.''

... she had reasons not to hold off on bringing it up to the new recruits of SEES, and all of it centers around that single surname.

Takeba.

"..."

So when that canny, single-eyed stare of Myunghon will find a single reaction immediately from Mitsuru, understated but there in the smallest of frowns, in the briefest knot of brows -- in the way her gaze casts askance.

Guilt.

Immediate, knee-jerk. Guilt.

"... You've done your research, then," she finally says after a moment, that conflicted expression melting in moments towards a distant, reserved look that she is so much better known for. "And you are aware you've reached an impasse. You won't get past the Kirijo Group or their lawyers, especially in this situation. But I doubt that will stop you. In that case..."

Mitsuru shifts. Drawing her bag into her lap, she opens it, reaches inside, and pulls something out.

Something polished. Glinting gunmetal gray in the storelight. With a long barrel and a trigger just waiting to be pulled--

-=CLACK=-

is the metal sound that rings out as Mitsuru sets the object down on the table, directly in between them.

An Evoker. But not a SEES one.

The one Shinjiro once owned, before he returned.

"... I don't know for certain if it was Aragaki's request or your own volition, or something else, that compelled you to investigate the Kirijo Group.

"But I'd like you to continue. I'd like to hire you, Yeo-san. I am willing to offer what explanations you could not get from the people you investigated...

"But I have certain conditions I would like to lay out, first."

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
The third floor is like the delicious (yet moldy) scandal that every tabloid seeks to find of a movie star or corporate hotshot, a jealously guarded, spicy secret that a poor, hapless ninja might just climb into one day and completely ruin your day. And not Reiya, either. (No, Umie was the first up there. It was a disaster... but for who?)

"Then, I would be happy to share the recipe with you. I am certain my friend would be overjoyed her recipe is being enjoyed by others," Myunghon says, easily enough.

But indeed, small talk can only last for so long. Indeed, in a culture such as the one they have in Japan, it would be looked on positively, brightly, that there is someone willing to bear the world on their shoulders. There must always be someone who must take the blame. Such that it goes. Aspirational? From a certain perspective, but... what happens to those that are then ground down into dust, their careers dashed in the wind?

Mitsuru's sheer, impeccable professionalism doesn't *seem* to bother Myunghon one bit -- but it nags at the mind, brings them to the days where they were still Myorei Yukichi, professional killer, who used a spreadsheet to destroy lives. Mitsuru gets the formality out of the way -- the expected thank-yous, for what they have done, and yet, the deflect: that too many cooks will spoil the broth.

And of course... they don't know each other. She needs to be certain of Myunghon's own motives.

"Of course," Myunghon answers, easily enough. "I would expect no less than for you to do your due diligence -- my words are, simply, only words, in the end, and there is no small excess of those that lurk in the shadows that exploit the supernatural world we have been privy to."

Though Mitsuru bears the weight of the world in a way they would argue she shouldn't, much like Shinjiro shouldn't, in this case, prudence is called for. Much like how they're keeping Yukari's name well out of this, even after wielding Takeba's name in their discussion.

And that name brings... guilt.

Mitsuru points out how they've reached an impasse, and the solution to that is to lay on the table a--

FISH EYE -- GUN?!?!?!??!?!?!

It takes an enormous reserve of Myunghon's willpower to not visibly react to the piece being placed on the table.

SUPERLUMINARY -- ohhhhhh sweet kannon is she going to ask me to play russian roulette or something messed up with her?? wait, what other messed up gun-based games do i know? what's the logic on how to best win at this? spin the barrel and feel the weight of the bullets gravity will still do its job and weight the feel of the gun to one side and if you're fast enough with your observation you can count the empty chambers WHY do i not have a sense of smell anymore i could've supersniffed the gunpowder packed within the casings

MAGICKQUE -- Rest assured, sire, I know a magic trick to make the bullets disappear with a sleight of hand!

I AM A CAT -- You can *totally* jump out the second floor window without consequence.

STAY FROSTY -- Bruh. That's not a gun-ho.

Taking a moment to become hee-ho about guns, rational brain takes over and Myunghon realises that that is, in fact, an Evoker. There is a pause, as Myunghon considers the metaphorical weight of this gesture. And Mitsuru lays it out clean that she isn't sure where their motives to investigate the Kirijo Group lie, but...

Curiously --

Mitsuru would like them to continue. To hire them, in fact.

"... I am listening," Myunghon gently speaks, relieved that their panic attack, as far as they know, isn't... that visible... right?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
<poem>
Is Myunghon Yeo's reaction to

GUN?!?!?!??!?!?!

visible to the KEEN AND CANNY, ALL-SEEING EYE OF KIRIJO?

--

nah it looks like Myunghon's in the clear

UNLESS MITSURU'S JUST BEING POLITE

Either way - deferential to her (fallen?!) idol or deceived by Myunghon's POWERFUL POKERFACE - the highest authority of Gekkoukan High School does not seem to notice, or at least outwardly react, to any even minute implication of a possible panic attack: she just leans back in her seat again, arms crossed under her chest and palms on her elbows as she leaves that unmarked Evoker resting between them.

"Evokers are technology that is proprietary to the Kirijo Group," she begins slowly, turning first to the point. "The principles behind their design should be a closely-guarded secret of our Ergo Division. However, as I'm sure you're aware, Aragaki was able to get his hands on one to help us at Tartarus with you and your associates. This," she nods towards the piece of distressingly gun-shaped technology here, "is that Evoker. It is ''not'' a SEES model. It belongs to a group you may have heard of -- Strega, the ones behind the Revenge Request website, among other unsavory business exploiting the cognitive world."

Mitsuru frowns, the frown of someone who has been unsuccessfully wrestling with an impossible dilemma for some time now. "... But I've had it looked at by people I can trust, and it is in every other way identical to the ones our members use. And it's not the only source; there is another independent element out there utilizing technologies nearly identical to Kirijo Evokers -- a cartridge-based model, something our people had been researching into ourselves. I doubt I need to tell you the implications."

There's a leak in the Kirijo Group. What other reason could there be?

Her brows furrow, mildly. "My family has... accomplished much, both great and terrible. I want its name, and its company name, to be something I can be proud to say I belong to, and part of that is atoning for their past sins. But I can't do that when I don't know who I can trust. And to that end, I can't rely on internal elements to investigate this issue, either."

''We've investigated ourselves and found no cause for wrongdoing.'' The very idea sounds patently absurd, doesn't it?

"... So I'd like your help, Yeo-san. Because I believe you are uniquely equipped to understand these matters in a way that the people in SEES aren't. I'm willing to hire you to continue as you're doing - and to look into this matter as well. I will make sure you are well-compensated, and you may make use of the resources and access privileges at my disposal if you need. However..."

Mitsuru shifts. And as she does, she lifts her right hand, lifting one perfectly-manicured finger into the air.

"... First, I wish to be in regular contact. It will help me to determine which way the investigation is going, and to better develop a rapport if collaboration is what you want." she's a little micro-manage-y, isn't sh"Second," middle finger rises after the index, "if you're caught, you must redirect attention on to me," she says, voice firm, eyes narrowed. "Make sure nothing can be traced back to whoever else may have asked you to look into the Kirijo Group. I'm better equipped to weather the consequences, should things go poorly. Even the most foul of turncoats wouldn't risk doing something that can't be taken back to a public face of one of the largest corporations in the world. And third..."

That ring finger rises. And Mitsuru frowns faintly.

"... if you have been investigating all this on someone's behalf, you may give them whatever information you find investigating on my behalf... but I don't want you telling them of my involvement."

If it's Shinjiro, then it wouldn't be a problem. But... if it's someone else...

...

It's better to be prepared. Just in case.

"Are these conditions acceptable for you?"

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Utterly krisp and kool about Evokers, Myunghon is able to bridge the topic that they already do know about: that Evokers are there out in the wild. It isn't, in fact, just Strega -- Myunghon has a leg up here over even what Mitsuru knows, that they know members of the New World Order who need to use Evokers to summon their Persona. The lengths to which this technology has leaked has serious, serious implications.

"Yes, I was aware of that discrepancy," Myunghon does confirm. "I have had to engage against Jin Shirato and other members of Strega, who indeed have their own Evokers..." and more, they don't say -- such as how Shinjiro got those suppressants from Strega as well. Was that another medical technology that should've been kept well under wraps?

Ultimately, Mitsuru hasn't been able to find the source -- whoever it is is truly either a shadow... or very, very powerful. Perhaps even more powerful than Mitsuru herself, given the precarious role she has as someone young, something that they ultimately are experiencing in their only one year of leading the Baengnyong. And... it is a complication, for Mitsuru, is it not?

For Mitsuru, the Kirijo name isn't simply something to escape, to discard, to be free of -- no matter how much burden and responsibility it weighs down upon them. No, this is not the same circumstance -- Myunghon had come to realise how rotten and despicable their corner of the corporate world was, how hollow and soulless... engineering the Great Surrender only felt correct.

But they do wonder if the internal investigation could only do so much.

"... I do understand," Myunghon does first speak. "If we speak too freely of how we are not responsible for the sins of our forebearers, committed before we were even born, then many of the atrocities that has happened, even only in this country, could be waived... all too easily."

But there is a pendulum there, isn't there? If you become too fixated on the sins of your fathers, then you'll never be free yourself -- you could even curse the incoming generation.

Myunghon listens to Mitsuru's terms with that gentle composure. Regular contact isn't a particular problem for them -- they already do just that with many other clients. And second...

"..."

There's a quiet smile as they say, "It does not surprise me that you bear the understanding that leadership carries with it the responsibility to fall upon the sword, when all goes poorly. And that is not necessarily a negative trait -- everyone despises a leader that only blames others, never themself. But..."

They shift the weight on how they're crossing their legs.

"I can already imagine Shinjiro-ssi telling you to not bear the weight of the world yourself. Because I have already had to tell him the same thing... and he has had to tell me that in turn. It is a lesson that, apparently, we all are quite poor at internalising, no matter how ironclad the logic is. You are not just Mitsuru Kirijo, the public face of the Kirijo Group. You also have a responsibility as Mitsuru Kirijo, friend to those that you've a rapport with in SEES."

And third...

"... very well," Myunghon nods, on that third part. "I assume you do not wish to draft a formal contract -- with what I am investigating for you, such a document would only draw the suspicion of the one compromising your position. I will also relay ciphers and drop boxes we can use to discuss matters, so that we leave nothing on record on devices such as our phones."

this also means THEY can jump on the sword first and ignore point two woooooooooooooooooooooooo

Then, their expression lightens. "The matter of these leaks does endanger our community here in Sumaru City as well, with how active Strega is with the Joker Killer. I look forward to our cooperation, Kirijo-kun."

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-11-04: Feelings To Be Named Later

2025-11-05T09:33:06Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: Feelings To Be Named Later''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Shinobu Shimizu *'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward *'''OOC Date:''' November 04, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' August 05, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Shinobu walks in on Myunghon having fallen asleep from exhaustion from their tasks. The two talk about the recent struggles they've faced, and Myunghon rekindles the topic of relationships that's still on their mind...'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myu..."

*'''Log: Feelings To Be Named Later'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Shinobu Shimizu]]
*'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon, Hirasaka Ward
*'''OOC Date:''' November 04, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' August 05, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Shinobu walks in on Myunghon having fallen asleep from exhaustion from their tasks. The two talk about the recent struggles they've faced, and Myunghon rekindles the topic of relationships that's still on their mind...''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon and some of the others had been out battling the Homunculus in Taro Nakata's Atelier, and there was good news after -- though it seemed like they were only at the nick of time, and any later would've been too late. It's a reminder of how time-sensitive some of these missions are. They've been at the Cardboard Dragon since, and by the time Shinobu arrives...

Well, the door isn't locked again, though store hours are over. There's still a slight scent of something sweet in the air -- and Shinobu is quick to pick out that Myunghon's been baking again, and there's some really pretty checkerboard cookies in a small plastic container, with some baking utensils washed beside it. By this time, it's an open offer that any baked goods are open game for the Cardboard Dragon crew.

The Rumourmonger themself?

Well... it looks like they've fallen asleep at the couch again, half-snuggled into themself in the midst of doing something, evidenced by the laptop still open on the coffee table and a pile of papers scattered around their lap. They have the white coat on draped over them, with the chocolate ruffle-blouse and the ribbon tie loosened around their neck, with the white inverted-pleat skirt and leggings... and fuzzy koala slippers dangling off one foot.

It's almost cute, like this.

It's also probably better, Shinobu knows, that they're asleep down here, not above in the hell mold zone.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Shinobu heard about the mission back into the Atelier a little too late to be there herself... though she ended up running into some trouble of her own later that night, herself.

After things like that, though, it's good to check in on everyone, so as soon as she can, Shinobu decides to swing in by the Cardboard Dragon after work. It's after-hours, so it'll be easier to talk without being mindful of customers who have no idea what's going on.

"Evenin'." Shinobu greets, stepping through the door. She's greeted, in turn, by a sweet scent - and she soon gravitates toward the container of checkerboard cookies. They look... really good, actually. Myunghon's really been improving... She takes one, nibbling on it idly as she scans the interior of the shop.

...It tastes really good, too.

It isn't long before she spots who she's looking for, nestled into the couch - and wearing a cute outfit? Shinobu smiles, just slightly. She finishes off the cookie and takes a step closer.

"Hey, boss -" She starts - and then realises she's caught them while they're asleep. Looks like they drifted off in the middle of doing some work... It's probably for the best. They could probably use it, and better that it's down ''here''. "You asleep?"

She won't push too hard. She glances back at the door. If it comes down to it, she can come back later.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
At least it isn't going to be awkward like the last time Shinobu caught Myunghon asleep that one morning. The cookies have been Hyousuke-approved...! And thus, they're ready for the rest of the Cardboard Dragon to enjoy. The first 'hey, boss' has them stirring, and then they plant their hand to the couch and slowly rouses up in a dizzy manner, gray eye bleary as they struggle to make sense of the world for a moment.

"Ah... is that you, Shinobu?" Myunghon lets out a weak little noise, rubbing their eye and mumbling, "I'm glad you came by. Somehow... I'm just so tired..."

They say, 'somehow', but So-young really has it right when they question when it is they ever stop moving -- they don't even spend most of their nights sleeping, given how active they are with the Demons and negotiating more stock for the shop. "Did your... work go well? It was a job, wasn't it?"

They're so scatterbrained they don't exactly remember what, and then--

They're... gesturing with their arms out in her direction? What does that mean?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Shinobu is ''definitely'' glad it isn't that awkward. She isn't sure either of them would survive another one.

Myunghon starts to stir, so Shinobu sticks around. She does step back to give them a little more space, though.

"Yeah, no problem." She replies with a nod, and then cracks a smirk. "'Somehow', huh? Seems like you've been busy, so it don't surprise ''me''."

She means it good-naturedly, at least.

"Oh, yeah - helped myself to one of the cookies. Pretty good - looked nice, too." She compliments, and then nods.

"Yeah. Practically had me running all over the ward playing messenger girl, but it went pretty well, anyway." She replies. "How'd things go on your end?"

They gesture toward her - and Shinobu pauses, staring blankly for a second.

"Uh, did you need a hand...?" She asks.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon leaves the arms up for a moment longer--

''Uh, did you need a hand...?''

The Rumourmonger seems to catch themself up with a more solid foothold on reality as they pull their arms back, embarrassedly, face becoming pink in a hurry. "... oh. Ummm..."

But Shinobu's smirk feels positively radiant as they quip on how it really isn't a mystery why they feel so tired. "Yes, yes..." they pout quietly, though there's a gentle smile as Shinobu points out she helped herself to one of the cookies. "Oh... I'm very glad. That one isn't too hard to make, but it does look very pretty, doesn't it? Suou-san was going to come around with some other moulds, like stars or hearts..."

Shinobu speaks of her job -- running all over the ward playing messenger girl? "Sounds like a waste of your talents..." Myunghon murmurs. A pause. "The Taro Nakata job is finished. He will be fine, I believe, but," A pause, as they glance to one side. Well, it's better to press on about work than their embarrassing, sleepy faux-pas.

"Hmmm. It's left a lot on my mind. About the kinds of beings we fight in supernatural spaces. We had to fight the Homunculus to save Taro Nakata... but I'm still unsettled as to 'what' a Homunculus is..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Myunghon seems to catch themself, and Shinobu feels just a pang of sympathy as they look embarrassed... But if they aren't going to dwell on it, neither is she. She lets out a small laugh as they pout, and then she nods.

"Yeah. Adds a real nice touch, you know?" Shinobu agrees. Suou-san is, huh? "I bet those'll look nice, too. Variety don't hurt."

Shinobu explains her job, and Myunghon comments.

"Yeah, no kidding. But... a job's a job, and it was all aboveboard, so I could hardly say no." She replies with a shrug. They explain how things went, though. "Oh yeah? Good, I'm glad."

She notices that pause and listens. She frowns thoughtfully - what a Homunculus is...

"It was trying to take him over, right?" She asks. ...But if it was just that, would they be dwelling on it so much? "...Did something happen? What's on your mind?"

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Myunghon doesn't dwell on it, but it does seem to weigh them down, as consciousness starts to return sharply to their senses and so does their mood. It's one of those Terrible naps, that leaves you feeling more drained and sapped than when they fell asleep without even meaning to.

They feel pretty cold at the distance right now. How foolish!

"Are there other sweets you'd be interested in...?" they ask, lifting their hand to their lips for a moment.

The Rumourmonger takes Shinobu in for a few moments longer, as Shinobu speaks about the Homunculus. Their legs draw up -- and the Koala slipper drops to the floor, leaving them in just the leggings as they start hugging their knees in that way that they usually do.

"Yanagi said that the Homunculus seemed very human because it was on the cusp of taking over... but there's a lot that we don't know about... any of the creatures we fight, do we? We're cautious to not kill Shadows because that'll destroy a person's mind in the physical world," Myunghon ruminates.

"... it's true we had to fight and kill it because a person would die otherwise. ... not doing enough killed someone else already," Myunghon mumbles. That failure to stop the NWO from killing Akira Hayashi is still weighing on their mind. "But it bothers me..."

A pause, as they start to race through Nanghaithya's words again. Then Tsumugi's, rather curiously, randomly. They destroyed some''thing'' that just wanted to reach out for what it wanted... is that really the transactional nature of the world that Tsumugi viewed?

"Do you mind... sitting down next to me? I could use it... right now."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>What other sweets, huh...? Shinobu thinks about that for a moment. She doesn't have a huge sweet tooth, but what ''does'' she like...?

"Maybe something with fruit?" She considers. She meets their gaze, watching as they draw their legs up to themself.

Shinobu listens as she explains. It seemed human because it was on the cusp of taking over...

"...And even that, we were lucky to find out before we made a mistake." Shinobu agrees with a quiet nod, folding her arms in front of her. "...We're fighting blind, yeah. They're a bunch of big mysteries we can only try to make sense of."

They had to fight and kill it because someone would die. And someone had already died - but it still bothers them... Even if it only ''seemed'' human, that's still a heavy burden.

...Shinobu's expression softens sympathetically - and when they ask that question, she moves to settle down on the couch next to them.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"Fruit...? Hmm. I'll look up some recipes," Myunghon does nod, as if that's started a whole new line of thought in their head. Smaller fruits would be easier -- there's no way they have the ability to break down a melon, say, so perhaps something like strawberries...? Strawberries are pretty common in desserts.

"I am rather used to the instinctual Shadows of Tartarus, and Palace Rulers being an embodiment of someone we can meet in the physical world... even the Demons of Sumaru, as you and I are used to... I am rather used to thinking of them as -- other denizens of Sumaru City. We Negotiate and cut deals with them, we fight at other times... but that just seems like the norm to me."

There's an uncomfortable glance. "But a Homunculus... I don't know what they are. It had such a strong desire to exist, to be someone, even if it was trying to steal another's identity and take over..."

Shinobu does settle down, and there's a pause as they still doubt themself -- but does lean in gently, unless Shinobu rejects or shuffles away.

"... I found it very human."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>"Cool. Looking forward to seeing what you come up with. Let me know if you need help getting anything together." Shinobu replies with a nod. She thinks about it, then. Shadows, Palace Rulers, and Demons... Shinobu frowns thoughtfully to herself. They're used to that, but the Homunculus...

She looks at them, as they admit to not knowing what they are. And when they lean in, she doesn't reject them. They can stay there as long as they need to.

Human, huh...

Shinobu frowns thoughtfully, her eyes drifting up toward the ceiling.

"...Guess I can relate." She murmurs, after a time. "We're all just doing what we have to to survive."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
... this does feel good, right now, Myunghon thinks, still a little red in the face as they place their hand to their mouth again in thought, leaned against Shinobu. "I've been trying recipes that don't require a lot of mixing... I can do a little, but a lot of things are still out of my capability. Kneading and mixing dough, or having to be vigorous for a few minutes... sooner or later I might hit a wall."

There's a longer pause as they look to Shinobu, from the corner of their gray eye.

"There's still another one out there, Sasaki-san's case... and she's definitely in danger, but there's so much we don't know. ... it's depressing to think about, the way it was saying. How if you're not a winner, you're a loser... how many times have I heard that from colleagues who feel desperate like they have to fight each other to keep their job?"

There's a slump, as they reach their hands down to twiddle at their thumbs.

"How've you been lately...?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Shinobu thinks about that. Recipes that don't require a lot of mixing... She doesn't know a whole lot about baking, but that sounds complicated.

"Impressive you've gotten as far as you have." She comments. "I, uh... don't really know a whole lot about it, but is there anything you can use to make it easier on you?"

Her gaze tracks back down from the ceiling and toward Myunghon, as they continue.

Another Homunculus... Another person in danger. Shinobu frowns consideringly, and it only deepens as Myunghon recounts its view on life.

Shinobu exhales sharply with a wince. It hits home a little.

"...Wish I could just say it was wrong, but... yeah, ain't the first time I've heard that before. The world does a real good job of making you feel that outright success is all that matters." She admits with a shake of her head. She sighs... And then takes a moment to think, as they ask how she's been.

"Well... I've been better, but I've been worse, too. Got into a fight the other night, and it left me pretty sore through my work the next day, but... That's all just one of the hazards of what we do. Just gotta take it as it comes." She replies. "...How about you?"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"Um... for instance, since I don't really know or trust myself with a knife due to my arm issues, I bought this box cutter where you can just lean on the lid to cut things, that has been very useful for cutting vegetables too," Myunghon reflects. "There are expensive devices like stand mixers that I've watched online, but the price is a little eye-watering." Somewhere, perhaps, Katsuya Suou will break out an old stand mixer to come to the rescue, like a superhero cop...

There's a nod as Shinobu relates to how she's heard that a whole lot too. "... it's contradictory. They'll often say you have to get along and be friends -- but at the same time, there's only a few slots for the winners. They get you used to competing against each other, when they post your grades up," Myunghon murmurs.

Shinobu's mention of getting into a fight has them alarmed a little, though, as Myunghon pulls up gently to say, "Do you need me to treat anything...?" Shinobu's reckless at times, but she's not *that* irresponsible, though, so if there's been something that needs treating, she's probably already looked into it.

How about them, though.

"Well... I've been thinking about-- us again, perhaps."

Yeah, they've been really subtle all scene about it!!
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>"That's... probably smart. Don't want to hurt yourself." Shinobu admits, as Myunghon explains that they don't trust themself with a knife. A box cutter you can lean on, though. "...That does seem pretty handy."

She grimaces, though, as they mention how expensive stand mixers are.

"Figures it'd be money standing in the way..." She replies. "Something to keep a look out for, I guess, if you decide you're still into it."

Myunghon agrees, and Shinobu offers a wry smirk.

"...Heh. Yeah. And good luck, if they decide they just don't like you." She replies with a shrug.

She can see the surprise, but Shinobu shakes her head at the offer.

"Nah, don't worry. I'm already back to one-hundred percent, now." She assures. "But... thanks."

Shinobu asks how Myunghon's been doing... and, they say they've been thinking about the two of them again. Shinobu turns her head to look at them, studying them for a moment.

"Oh yeah? What've you been thinking?" Shinobu asks.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
"T-that it sounds a lot more foolish now that I have to put it into words?" Myunghon helplessly says, all Koala-like for a moment. They haven't moved away from Shinobu's side, though.

"But-- I just thought if what I have been pursuing with Tsumugi is indeed a casual relationship despite everything... a-and what you wanted was also a casual relationship--" Myunghon hitches, suddenly mortified like every fibre in their body wants them to backpedal.

I AM A CAT -- Despite everything, you *can* still jump out of a second story window safely.

"T-that is, I understand that it isn't as simple as going 'ah, if x, then therefore y'--" Steam is once again erupting out of Myunghon's ears as they realise their newest analogy sucks even harder.

"I--I may need a moment to try again. Perhaps if I run to the bathroom," they uselessly conclude.

There is a non-zero chance they're gonna run off to Mementos in their koala slippers at this rate.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Myunghon replies - and Shinobu's eyebrow raises. Foolish, huh...? She doesn't say anything right away, because they still seem to be working their way through their thoughts. A casual relationship... She sees the way they ''hitch'', too, seeming mortified. They try again, and... Ah, there it goes again...

Mercifully, Shinobu doesn't flinch or cringe throughout. She watches them patiently the whole time.

"You, uh... you don't need to do that." Shinobu assures with a shake of her head, as the conclusion they reach - is running to the bathroom. She'd rather they ''didn't'' run off into Mementos in their koala slippers... "Look, you don't gotta... jump right into it. Take your time, catch your breath, get your thoughts together... 'Til then, we can just sit right here. It's alright."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
A part of Myunghon does beg, because the Cardboard Dragon is technically a supernatural space, for Merry to take over. Please, be suave and invincible for them! Perhaps they can take the flirting again to Mementos next time?

Merry considers this for a moment and answers confidently:

I have absolutely no idea how strategise and win the game of love. Back over to you, Myunghon!

BETRAYED ALREADY????

Shinobu fortunately calms them down, though, as she assures that they don't, in fact, have to flee of dire, mortal embarrassment from their own store. Take your time. Catch your breath (they start imitating square breaths at this time for a bit)...

...

"I'm..." Myunghon starts clinging onto Shinobu's side. "I still can't get over the thought... I thought I'd make myself okay with casual relationships. Perhaps I proved that I was okay with it?" Myunghon you still can't meet Tsumugi without crying by the end of it "No, it isn't a matter of proofs like it were demonstrating a hypothesis stands on solid ground, now is it?"

They feel the mortal terror rising again, but swallows it down long enough. "... I do still feel something warm when you are around. You're reassuring to me, in a way others aren't," they stammer out. "And even if it is casual, and you want to stop at any time..." Is that okay? Now they're confused again. This is just the exact same place they ended up when they were staying over at Shinobu's, isn't it?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Shinobu keeps on eye on them. They do, in fact, take their time and catch their breath. She feels a little relieved. A moment passes - and now they're clinging onto her side.

They can't get over the thought... Shinobu's expression softens sympathetically. They've really been... dealing with this, haven't they?

"...No, it isn't." Shinobu agrees with a shake of her head. "If it were that easy... well, life'd be simpler. It's just something you've gotta feel out for yourself."

They still feel warm around her. She's reassuring, in a way others aren't...

...They really feel that strongly? It's hard to imagine anyone feeling that way about her. She looks down, directing a frown at herself.

"...Would that make you happy?" Shinobu asks. "Would you be satisfied with that? Something temporary like that..."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Amongst other things, perhaps, but lately Myunghon has become someone who feels very deeply, don't they? Or perhaps it was all always like that, and it only took certain reminders for them to reawaken that side of them. "But feelings are so imprecise..." Myunghon murmurs. "Even when I put words to them, it may still be misconstrued," they conclude, contradicting just how many emotions they do, in fact, still feel.

Shinobu asks pointed questions, however. Would it make them happy?

It's a terrifying question to be asked.

"I'm not... sure," Myunghon admits. "I'm not even sure what I have with Tsumugi makes me happy, just... ... I don't know what happy feels like. Is that warmth I feel not happiness? I don't know how to quantify something I feel like I've never really felt. I know what dead and cold and inert inside feels like. Everything else is a moving target I can't grasp..."

There's a weak little chuckle as they admit, "The Homunculus really knew better what it wanted than even I do. ... I know I don't want the opposite of-- that is, having you further away."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>"...Yeah. They are." Shinobu agrees, with a slight smile. "They can be, uh. Pretty messy and confusing."

Shinobu asks her question, and Myunghon admits that they're not sure, that they're not even sure that what they have with Tsumugi is happy...

They don't know what happy feels like.

...Shinobu thinks about that for a moment, her gaze falling to the floor as she thinks it over - then, after a moment, back up at them.

"...Then... I'll be right here, when you need me." She says. "I don't... want us to get further away, either."

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Shinobu agrees on feelings being messy and confusing. That's certainly a way they feel they are right now...

There is a part of Myunghon that feels terrified at how -- negative they're being. Negative tends to draw criticism; it's so classically Japanese to ball away one's fears until they become part of the facade, after all. But it's true that they've never felt like they have ever been able to quantify happiness. The cold, absent childhood. The way in which they feel always out of step with society, such that the only way they feel they can try to slip in is to mask and be performative of whichever role is most useful at present...

...

Is there a person left to be affectionate about, at this point? That was what Tsumugi awakened. And as Shinobu takes her own time and gives them an answer...

It does... feel warm. They quietly reach for Shinobu's hand, drawing it up to that chocolate blouse of theirs. It's maybe not lost on them that they aren't dressed in one of their funerary suits, right now.

"I do... feel glad you feel the same way," Myunghon tries to keep their mind from racing further, as it inevitably starts wondering what this *means*, where the correct cues are, what's incorrect to say at this point--

It doesn't matter right now, they decide.

Myunghon leans against Shinobu's side, still with that hand of hers held if she lets them. "Can we... stay like this for longer? I don't have words for what this is, but..."

If you want it, reach out for it.

"I do want this, right now."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Shinobu Shimizu has posed.
<poem>Myunghon reaches for her hand - she lets them take it, and doesn't pull away as they draw it closer to them. She nods.

"I was worried about it." She admits. "Maybe I shouldn't have, but..."

She trails off there, letting the thought lie unfinished. They lean against her side.

"...Yeah. I'm not goin' anywhere. Take all the time you need." Shinobu assures.

</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

User:Merilan

2025-11-01T07:20:34Z

Merilan:

I'm Merilan! I run on NZ time and am usually on around at 7pm EST.

I play:

* [[Myunghon Yeo]] - A Rumourmonger and Certified Weirdo.
* [[Tatsuya Suou]] - A Runaway Delinquent and Certified Weirdo.
* [[Ruzica Crvena]] - A Shujin student and Certified Weirdo.

Ruzica Crvena

2025-10-31T08:55:20Z

Merilan:

Ryuzaki Kurama

2025-10-31T08:32:48Z

Merilan: Redirected page to Ruzica Crvena

#REDIRECT [[Ruzica Crvena]]

Ruzica Crvena

2025-10-31T08:27:29Z

Merilan: Created page with "{| class="toccolours" style="width: 15%; float: right; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align: left; font-size: %110" cellspacing="2" |- ! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font size: 110%;" align="center" colspan="2" | '''Ruzica Crvena / Ryuzaki Kurama''' |- ! colspan="2" align="center" | 300px |- ! style="background:#111111; border: 2px #000000 solid; font-size: 110%;" align="..."

File:Ruzica.png

2025-10-31T08:24:42Z

Merilan:

2025-10-14: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster

2025-10-16T07:50:33Z

Merilan: Merilan moved page 2025-10-14: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster to 2025-10-15: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster

#REDIRECT [[2025-10-15: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster]]

2025-10-15: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster

2025-10-16T07:50:33Z

Merilan: Merilan moved page 2025-10-14: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster to 2025-10-15: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster

*'''Log: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Myunghon Yeo]], [[Katsuya Suou]]
*'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon Third Floor, Hirasaka Wrad
*'''OOC Date:''' October 15, 2025
*'''IC Date:''' July 26, 2012
*'''Summary''': ''Katsuya mistakes a noise of pain for an opportunity for JUSTICE, and instead runs into a being mosteth grotesqueth andeth fouleth, miladyeth.''

----

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
> I borrowed some more baking implements from a friend.
> It's still difficult to mix and fold...
> But I think I'm improving, little by little.

(LIME sticker of a cute Koala struggling to climb)

Such was the last set of texts Myunghon sent earlier today. It's perhaps nice to see someone embarking on a new hobby, even though there's quite a lot of challenges along the way. When Katsuya arrives later in the evening at the Cardboard Dragon, though, he finds it empty... one typically closed door is actually now-- open. What was that mysterious door leading to all this time?

Myunghon's messenger bag is on the couch, slightly ajar, and their phone is on the coffee table.

There's a faint noise of clattering and movement from upstairs. It doesn't look particularly suspicious, but once Katsuya looks, it looks like beyond the door is... well, Johnny-kun the Guardian Plant of the Cardboard Dragon's actually been moved to the other side, and then Katsuya realises that this is actually the main entrance that people are supposed to go in through, albeit sealed off. The elevator has signs that it's broken and should not be used, much like the one downstairs.

"Ow! Oww ow!"

That was Myunghon in some distress from upstairs.

Should he... investigate?
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Katsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
It's been a little bit exciting for him (yes, this is what passes for excitement for Katsuya Suou) to be able to educate someone else in the ways of baking. He's not often alotted a teaching role in most things he does in life (outside some mentoring of late with officers who are more junior than he is (a feat)) and there's something that feels good about passing on knowledge--

Especially for a subject, nay, ''artform'' near and dear to his heart. It's been a welcome distraction from the weightier matters that draw his attention in the world, as well. So, when the option comes around (and when he has a free day out of his long stretch of what may well be 'permanent night shift' workdays), he's more than happy to pay Myunghon a visit.

Except, they're not in.

And that door over there is mysteriously open.

Clattering sounds announce a presence upstairs. That's right, Myunghon lives ''in'' this building, despite it not being zoned for residential use. He hasn't reported it, though the matter galls him terribly. What if there was a fire? No one would know they were here.

"..."

Is that... really the main entrance? Then, why the fire escape--

Before he can puzzle over that mystery for very long, there's a sharp cry from upstairs. A person, in danger! You couldn't build a better siren song for someone as justice-obsessed as Katsuya.

Without thinking very much about it at all, he races upstairs, shoving open any doors and brushing aside any obstacles that might stand in his way, to see--

</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Ascend and rise, swiftly, Katsuya Suou, for justice, as...

-=GWARRRRRRRRRRRR=-

A SWEATER MONSTER has appeared in front of Katsuya Suou! Command?

It's a bit startling at first, but it appears that that is Myunghon Yeo, who is currently having difficulty fitting themself into a pale gold sweater because of difficulties with their arms such that the sweater is somewhat fused between their face and arm in a manoeuvre that one has to charitably call 'the shimmy'.

VISUAL CALCULUS -- A tipped-over pitcher of water (plastic, fortunately), next to a tray that's also been upturned.

DÉCOR -- Oh. Oh sire. Forget the sweater monster. There are *bigger* evils at work here.

The third floor is charitably described as a *grotesquerie*. It goes beyond the pale of 'living in a commercial space', which could be civil. The second floor is pristine enough and licensed for commercial use... but the third floor is another matter entirely.

The smell of mould sharply contrasts with the stench of disinfectant to Katsuya's nostrils, somehow, like two warring sides on opposing forces, as if waging a historical and protracted war from which there will be no winner, only losers.

Then there is a constant drip; it is easy to see that there is a natural corner in which leaks are centering toward -- to a plastic bucket that bravely is catching it all, as if to bear the brunt of the world. The walls are grotesquely mottled in black mold in places, even though they've made the effort to clean and eradicate the mold, but a non-weatherproofed building like this has no chance.

Part of the ceiling is caved in, thoroughly soggy and rotted.

There's a men's bathroom on the way in. It has a urinal in it. There's that commercial space charm.

The rest of the living space is... bare. There's a window boarded up with playwood and other planks where Shinobu had to board it up for them, then Gumiho drew a fun little picture of a Jack Frost to 'give the room the KOOL it deserves'. It says KOOL BOSS on it.

But other than that and a mini-fridge just sitting on the floor, and a lumpy, cold futon in the centre... there is a full-length mirror propped up against a stack of cardboard boxes. Some of them are merchandise, stock to be moved to the store. Others appear to be-- their belongings. There's markings on the boxes -- 'clothes', 'personals', the like... and the date is from quite a while ago.

The very picture of someone who never made this space their own. Things that people would've long moved onto wardrobes, cabinets, dressers. The only thing close enough to a wardrobe is a plastic garment rack on wheels, the kind that costs 1,000 yen at the corner store, which hang a few of their more frequently used garments. Some of them are Mei's, the femme ones; the other ones are the funerary suits.

In the midst of all this, Myunghon Yeo has given up on trying to get the sweater hole over their head and has slumped to the floor in frustration. They don't appear to have noticed someone coming up in their struggle with the sweater.

There's also a final note of embarrassment.

They don't have pants or a skirt on right now.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Katsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
He races upstairs and past any obstacles that may afford themselves to come face to face with a-- sweater monster. It still takes him a moment to properly resolve what he's looking at and unpick what has happened in this place.

More important sensory details are coming to him in the moment. Such as the, ugh, smell. He's been in some of the run-down parts of Sumaru. Some people can't help where they live (or, given his line of work, die), and being a homicide detective means at some point you stop being precious about smells. But there's one thing about the smell of a corpse, or where a corpse is known to be waiting, and yet another thing about bursting into a residence like this and smelling ''mold''. The antiseptic does little to ameliorate the scent: it's an interesting spin on the mold smell, he'll give it that.

By interesting he, of course, means 'bad'.

But here are things here to assault yet more of his senses. The smell suggests that there's mold, and yes, there it is! And even the roof is leaking and rotting, suggesting that it's one bad period of rain away from collapsing in altogether (how did Myunghon survive June? did it involve tarp? how will they survive ''winter''?).

He turns his head and sees the urinal. He turns his head, and sees the lumpy futon. The piles and piles of boxes. It's like they've been living in an abandoned building this entire time (that's exactly what they're doing, more or less, Katsuya) rather than any real sort of living space. He'd-- thought it was bad enough that they were living illegally on the third floor.

This is worse. It's not just a fire hazard. It's a health hazard. It's a structural ''collapse'' hazard. It's--

And then, as the long moment in which Katsuya painstakingly takes into account the various horrors of Myunghon's living space comes to an end, Myunghon gives up on their struggle and collapses to the floor. They don't have pants or a skirt on right now. Mercifully, they have on undergarments. This, however, is a strained mercy.

Katsuya, crimson-faced, turns around so swiftly it's a wonder he hasn't merely rotated in space.

[SAVOIRE FAIR]: If you walk down the stairs right now, it's a straight shot to the front door. Myunghon will never have to know you were here. In fact, you can just ''never come by again''.
[VOLITION] Medium - Failure: No. I'm sorry, Suou-kun. I can't let you walk away like a common creep.

"I'm very sorry! There is no excuse for this!" he barks out instead, rooted to the spot where he stands. "I heard a sound like someone-- like you were in distress and-- I didn't see anything!"

He absolutely did, or he wouldn't be like this right now.

</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
The question of how Myunghon survived ''last'' winter is indeed an incredible one, and perhaps answerable by 'they didn't know nearly as many people as they do now that people noticed' and also 'by being sick a lot'. It's truly only a matter of time before that part of the roof collapses, soggy and rotted as it is. It's not the kind of thing that's an easy fix either -- this building's been taking its share of lumps since perhaps the early 80's, and it doesn't look like anyone's put the money, even before Myunghon, to truly reinforce and renovate it to... any modern building safety code.

Unfortunately, Katsuya doesn't turn around and immediately abscond from the loft. Instead, he barks out and explodes in embarrassment, which of course, in turn, causes -Myunghon- to shriek as they suddenly realise -someone- is there and they flail and finally pull their head through that sweater hole, equally red-faced as they realise that it's -Katsuya-, and then they're tugging the sweater down to try to cover themself.

"Suou-san?! What are you-- *why* are you in here?!" He answered that already, but the panic is clearly not taking in facts. They flail with that sweater sleeve to try to shoo him away and exclaim, "WHY are you still standing there?! Please--" There's a wince as continued flailing just hurts their arms further, and they reach for a white skirt nearby and shimmies into it in record time, wheezing and panting. The sling is scattered not far from the futon, not currently worn... and there's a large pile of old bandages ontop of that.

"Goodness gracious, *really*..." Myunghon whimpers in a fluster, now that they're at least in a state where they're decent enough to stop panicking... Katsuya witnesses continued shimmying as Myunghon has to do some interesting things to get their arms into the arm holes, given that they don't have the capability to do things like 'lift their arm overhead'. It's probably a mercy that the sweater is somewhat oversized.

Still feeling conscious and naked (not literally. thankfully, to the both of them), they unsteadily reach for one of the hangers and just drags the white coat without standing up, letting gravity do the work as they drape the coat over their shoulders.

"... I am dressed now," they advise numbly, since Katsuya turned around. Then a second after that, they realise that not all the bandages are on, so all the scarring and damaged flesh that's normally hidden under all the bandages, such as on their neck and arms, are visible at the moment. Fortunately, their face is still covered, since they're extra-loathe to take that off. The face can be redresed last.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Katsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
He, truthfully, had assumed they weren't even ''here'' last winter. Shouldn't that have killed them? (It may well almost have.) In any case, if the roof doesn't kill them (outright, or through exposure) the mold certainly will do the same just more slowly and insidiously. Isn't there a restaurant on the first floor? Has the mold spread down that far (or into the Cardboard Dragon, where ''sometimes there are children??'') or is it still quarantined to this disaster of a third storey floor?

There are a lot of questions that Katsuya wants to ask (or demand, or skip the questions outright and just deliver unto Myunghon the lecture to end all lectures) but alas, he's made a very grave error indeed in coming up here. Myunghon is half-dressed. ...Barely dressed. And they ask the most important question of all:

Why in the world is he ''still standing there''? Even with his back turned!!

[HALF-LIGHT]: Run! RUN!

Panic settles into his gut at last. It's only for some heroic force of will that he doesn't bolt for the stairs: he might see something untoward, some part of him instructs, if he did. He instead stays firmly rooted to the spot, his gaze straight on the opposite wall, as Myunghon finishes dressing behind him.

They're dressed now, they announce, and the words sound like they've come from very, very far away instead of just a handful of feet of. He doesn't react at first: did something in him break?

"I, I see," he says, without turning around. "I-- I assure you, Yeo-san, I did not mean... I would never! Not on a woman who was dressing...! I am truly very sorry..."

With trepidation, perhaps believing he might have misheard them, somehow, he starts to turn about about again.

He is still red-faced with abject embarrassment. "If-- you want me to leave--"
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
If there's anything Katsuya's known about Myunghon in their short relation together, is that they tend to be fastidious -- their clothes might have had the life sucked out of them a long time ago at times (the suits, mostly; the femme fashion is still nice, if not new), and the Cardboard Dragon proper was always... clean. It's difficult to imagine Myunghon themself alone capable of cleaning a big space like that by themself, but they do it, somehow.

So this, by comparison, is...

There is a darker statement within, perhaps, between the spaces that people publicly access and thus has to be kept clean, and one that only they live within, and thus...

Katsuya's choice of gendering does hurt a bit, but it's not new, by this time they've gotten used to it -- and yet they still haven't corrected him, like they're resigned to the ambient radioactive assumption by this point. "No, no, I should have--" they let out a little strained, trembling noise. "I should have locked the door. No, wait, I forgot to shut the store as well in the first place, did I not? That was how you were able to step in the first place."

And they forgot their phone and belongings downstairs. Someone could've just lifted that!

It still hurts a little, but Myunghon finally does rise off their feet with some effort. They pick up a little first aid kit as they do so, and then looks towards Katsuya proper as they step closer towards the stairs. "... this is embarrassing. I don't typically like to show this floor to anyone."

For obvious reasons??
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Katsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
Now, this is the mystery he hasn't yet cracked. They're ''exacting'' in their presentation, and yet-- this. All of this. He need only look around him (well, not at the present moment because he's staring at the wall-- oh no more black mold) to see that there are such pristine (or, close enough) pieces of attire amonst such ''rot'' that one can't help but think taht it might be almost symbolic. Or poetic, if one has a poet's heart.

Let the exterior be clean. Let it be the shell of a Platonic egg, white and unmarred. But the inside is hideously rotten and redolent with foul odor. So long as the shell isn't cracked, then all is well, but--

Yet, this isn't a matter upon which he can dwell now.

Once again, he makes assumptions (assumptions in which he hasn't been corrected just yet, unlike with Tsubasa's own pronouns) about Myunghon. They tremorously venture that it was ''their'' mistake, that they ought to have locked up, that they should have closed up the store, that--

"No, no-- absolutely not!" Katsuya insists, in a flurry of his own. "I-I-- it was my fault! I should have called out, first, rather than assume! I--"

As Myunghon rises to their feet and starts to walk right on past him. He stands there as still as a statue, watching them as they pass.

This is embarrassing. They don't like to show this floor to anyone.

"A-about that," he stammers, still getting past the hideous embarrassment of the situation, "the-- the roof is going to fall in. --Not immediately!" he corrects, hurredly, waving a hand dismissively in front of himself. "But-- it can't be safe to live up here! The mold, and-- and the water, and the rot... and there's no insulation!"

Is... that what he was paying attention to, as they were struggling with their sweater, barely dressed?

Well. Yes.
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
<poem>
Katsuya's flustered flurry peppers them as they move towards the entrance -- not quite as dressed and bandaged as they'd like (they usually like wearing leggings), but it'll have to do for now. They put their slippers on, but then Katsuya brings to mind the dire truth of the third floor.

The roof is gonna cave at some point. The mold. The water. The rot. The lack of insulation. The broken window.

"... I know," Myunghon quietly admits. And for once... the gentle and amiable Myunghon seems distant, like they have nothing more to offer about the situation other than a matter-of-factly statement that, yes, they are quite aware of the situation, and no, they're not going to do anything about it.

"The cost to repair everything in this building is immense. I can't afford all of it."

It's worse, too. Katsuya is in the privilege of knowing that Myunghon owns some safehouses -- he hid in one with Hamade after her attack at Ebisu Beach. He's been unfortunate enough to be part of the procession where Tsubasa was pulled from another one, so they number at least two. So Myunghon is in possession of -some- other properties, and yet... they choose to live here. Is it out of some attachment to the property, the store? Or...

It speaks, plainly, to how much care they believe themself to deserve, compared to others.

They look over their shoulder gently, somehow smaller and vulnerable, trying to deflect with that gentle smile of theirs.

"Shall we head downstairs? I want to show you some of the new tools I obtained..."
</poem>

<Pose Tracker> Katsuya Suou has posed.
<poem>
Even the embarrassment of seeing someone else in such a state (well, someone he's viewing as femme; he's been to public baths with other men of course) can't hold firm against the sheer horror of what he's seen up here on the building's third floor. Maybe he could let it slide if their residence was a little more... suitable, but this isn't a home. It's a pending deathtrap one way or another, whether Myunghon freezes to death some terrible night in the winter, or the roof falls in in a most sudden and terminal way, or they just succumb to breathing in black mold.

And... they know, which serves to immediately deflate whatever indignation or horror Katsuya might have build himself up towards.

They know. They just can't fix the building. The cost is immense.

"If you moved into one of the safehouses, or even sold another property--"

Which is as close as he's getting to tacitly accepting their crime of residing here.

But even he cuts himself off, because he remembers what Myunghon said before. Instead, in silence, he takes another look around at the squalor of the apartment, and finds even himself at a loss for words in this exact moment.

"I... see..." he utters at last, and here they've already moved to the stairs.

Shall they show him instead some of the tools they obtained?

"...Yes," Katsuya says, still in those minute ways trying to assemble the last few minutes into some sort of coherent... sense of the world in which he thinks he exists versus the world that actually exists.

"Yes, please do."

It's a relief to leave the third floor behind.
</poem>

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Season 1]]
[[Category:Season 1, Episode 1]]

2025-10-15: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster

2025-10-16T07:49:42Z

Merilan: Created page with " *'''Log: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster''' *'''Cast:''' Myunghon Yeo, Katsuya Suou *'''Where:''' The Cardboard Dragon Third Floor, Hirasaka Wrad *'''OOC Date:''' October 15, 2025 *'''IC Date:''' July 26, 2012 *'''Summary''': ''Katsuya mistakes a noise of pain for an opportunity for JUSTICE, and instead runs into a being mosteth grotesqueth andeth fouleth, miladyeth.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed. <poem> > I borro..."