2025-09-18: Sunrise Parabellum
- Log: Sunrise Parabellum
- Cast: Mio Kazama, Myunghon Yeo, So-young Park
- Where: Bar Parabellum, Aoba Ward, Sumaru City
- OOC Date: September 18, 2025
- IC Date: July 13, 2012
- Summary: Mio convinces Myunghon and So-young to attend Bar Parabellum to browse guns with her. Surely, this is all perfectly well and fine.
<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
[THE CARDBOARD DRAGON]
[FRIDAY, JULY 13, 6:05 PM]
It is an early evening like any other, wherein Myunghon is hopefully at the shop taking it as easy as can be. "Anyone home~?" comes the call from outside as Mio wanders up the fire escape, bubble tea in hand, bag over one shoulder. She's dressed in a breezy blue sundress and wearing a baseball cap, since it's still warm as heck even in the evenings.
She has a plan, you see, and the only part that hasn't panned out is...
"Myunghon-san! Can you take me to a Bar? I heard you can buy a -gun- at this one!"
She's not old enough to get to her target location.
[BAR PARABELLUM]
[FRIDAY, JULY 13, 7:22 PM]
Bar Parabellum is a picturesque looking spot. The refined ideal of a dimly-lit speakeasy where the Master at the bar knows your name, your favourite drink, and the rich wooden fixtures are even older than he is. The door glides open soundlessly, well-oiled hinges of brass glittering in the warm light. The air inside is just a little bit cooler, more pleasant, than the muggy summer evening. A couple of heads turn to look at the newcomers, but then turn back to their drinks.
Mio is all puffed up and proud with both hands on her hips, yet notably is not being the first one to walk inside. "Woah, look at this place! It's dripping with class!" she crows, looking between Myunghon and So-Young with starry-eyed glee. "I always wanted to go to a real, classy whiskey bar like this! Uh oh, I hope I'm okay for the dress code..." she lifts one foot after the other to look at, as if her sneakers + sundress combo would somehow get her thrown out. Throughout all the excitement, the silver fox in the pinstripe vest behind the bar continues to polish a glass without a batted eyelid. Strangers bibbling around outside of his bar is the least surprising thing in the world.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
Myunghon's evening was already going pretty precariously and usually they end up going to sleep around six so that they can be up by the Dark Hour to overexert themself with supernatural activity, which is markedly dash when Mio storms in and asks them if they can take her to a bar so she can buy a gun.
"????????????"
BAR PARABELLUM
Sunrise, Parabellum.
It feels like Katsuya Suou's head could rise out of the soil of the potted plant they're seated next to, going, "Aha, Yeo-san! I've caught you in the act bringing a minor to a bar to purchase firearms, no less!" and then literally scurrying away as a potted plant-person hybrid to go fill out some official papers because he still has to do the paperwork properly to arrest them, even as a potted plant-person hybrid.
There's one issue:
Myunghon is fucking scared of guns, and they're fucking scared of alcohol too.
They only know of alcohol as That Thing People Drink to Drown their Sorrows, and Umie basically yelled at them last time they considered it. Shinobu seems to have a thing for it, just to relax and for the social atmosphere rather than the actual taste. They fidget and think to Miho, Yua and Remi all being more responsible, experienced drinkers than them. ... it's kind of lame that they, as the sole 23-year old (so far), graduating class of 2007, is the only one that hasn't had a drink... right?
BANG
BANG
The faint sound of people trying out the guns at the firing range in the back somewhere is basically enough to get them to jump out of their seat. "So is there a gun... menu? Do you have a drink before your gun? Is it fun before guns?"
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
So-young is not all that sure how she got drafted into this, exactly?? Okay, so she did show up at the Cardboard Dragon just as they were leaving, there's that. Some elder sister sense did speak to her and firmly tell her she should come along just to make sure everything's okay. She has also been to Parabellum before and chatted pleasantly with the bartender, not least because his laconic nature and silver foxness kind of reminds her of Uncle. The chain of logic those nuggets of truth build she can understand.
The part where asking Myunghon about guns, then going to the specific place where a certain someone bought an ill-advised gun that Myunghon then not-quite-stole to disappear into Mementos with the intent of doing something drastic, that part she's not so sure on. But here we are, and there's something about Mio's quivering hesitant excitement that's pretty familiar. That was her, not that many years ago, being intimidated by the thought of a bar and what it could do to you.
"You'll be fine. Just be confident but polite," is all So-young says as she strides straight forwards and through the door to a table, pausing to offer a bright smile and a nod of her head in recognition to the bartender as she does so. She certainly takes her own advice, her entire posture and dress radiating that of a suave customer here to have a fine drink and maybe peruse a gun list a little.
It's not long before So-young has a glass of umeshu on the rocks in front of her, and a small tray of edamame to go with it. She's not about to offer alcohol for either of them, because in Mio's case she's pretty sure that's something you don't screw around doing in Parabellum and Myunghon seems ready to bounce off the walls. She's not sure if you get carded when trying to buy a gun, but looks like she'll enjoy finding out.
First, though, she frowns. She did deliberately pick a table near the front door, but even so: "You don't have to be here if you don't want to," she points out uncertainly to Myunghon. "This is something I've got experience in, for better or worse. ... it's the big leather-bound menu behind the counter," she adds in a low voice, before taking a sip.
<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
The gang are soon seated at a table while they figure out how the heck this whole thing actually works. Mio looks like a kid in a candy store, arms by her sides as she rocks gently in her seat and glances at the people assembled in this fashionably dusky den of vice. Luckily, Myunghon's fears are unfounded: Officer Suou is nowhere to be seen, not even lurking amidst the potted plants.
"Huh, it's a lot more relaxing in here than I thought it'd be." Mio reflects aloud, eyes locking onto Myunghon as her rocking comes to a halt and she leans forward slightly to get a better view of the fidgeting bundle of nerves. Does the distant racket from the test range not alarm her? "Have you been here before? Maybe we should get some nice lamps at the 'Dragon like they have here... whatcha think?"
Sensing the nerves, Mio slips from the chair and stands up, taking So-Young's advice onboard. Confidence! Poise! She's also sucking the salt off of an edamame bean. "Oh, big book at the counter? Okay. Should I ask if I can bring it over for you two to look at?" and whatever the answer may be, the girl is off to march up to the bar like it's a field trip at school.
"Master! 'scuse me. Can I see the extra menu?" Mio asks for the Bartender's attention, raising her hand as if calling out to a teacher. The handsome devil behind the bar adjusts his spectacles and then peers over them at the bubblegum bundle of energy in his establishment... you can feel yourself being judged! Your sins are crawling up your back! The weight of your guilt threatened to crush you! "Oui, madame." he produces a thick tome from under the counter and lays it on the bar before Mio, gloved hands leaving a small paper order form and a pen atop it.
Mio returns with the book, complete :> expression and all. "Okay! Shopping..."
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
Myunghon isn't certain either, So-young. At this point you've probably banked enough karma that you kind of just got pulled into it by virtue of being in the stray path of the bullet, which is ironic because they haven't even purchased the gun yet. Also because of silver foxes.
"No, I've never been here," Myunghon does admit, which is kind of embarrassing to admit for a Rumourmonger that pretends to be on top of their game in Sumaru City when this was one of *the* hottest rumours right around when the Joker Killer became a real hot topic. They look towards So-young as she encourages them to just be confident but polite. Right. Regular masking, then. They only have a glass of water with them at the moment because the bar doesn't offer extremely diluted tea, and they've already tried a single edamame bean and made a face at it so that's off the table too.
"I do need to be here. I need to know what the rumour did," Myunghon insists on So-young, even though they look just about frayed as that night they unexpectedly called up So-young and blurted out that they've been stranded in Shibuya and need a place to stay.
Mio points out how nice the lights are. "... they are nice, Myo-kun, but they're probably for people with a budgeting decor far greater than mine," Myunghon admits. They're using 'Myo' just to give some deniability as to who Mio Kazama is, even though their church is probably just a block away. It also feels bad and weird to say 'Myo', because that's just one half of 'Myorei', but that's a personal hangup and not Mio's fault at all, so they keep it to themself.
The menu is produced in remarkably short order, and Myunghon is flecking their eye towards the Master like he's going to bore holes into them with his gaze. They take a look through and... ... ...
"The cheapest thing in here is 2,800 yen and it will still kill me. ... it's strange to think that the price is so low."
A pause.
"Which one did you buy, nuna?"
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
So-young has immediately started lounging elegantly in her seat as she sips at her glass and occasionally pops an edamame pod open. She's not really masking, not the way that Myunghon would think of it, so much as she's just someone who's in her element in a place like this. Her hands move minutely but visibly in time with the bar's soft music, as if she's itching to either play along or lead the score.
"It's a bar as well as a gun shop, after all. And it's not a low-class one. There's some really nice wines behind the counter," comes the voice of someone who definitely checked last time, which might explain how the desire to buy a gun out of the blue came about as part of the trip. Over Mio's head, she offers another smile and a respectful nod of recognition, as if she's ready to keep Mio from diving too deep. (She is not. But she is something of a limiting force here, maybe.)
So-young is only just starting to get the hang of how rumours _in general_ work in Sumaru, and even then only dimly by extrapolating what she can from people's reactions to the rumour around Myunghon. The idea that she might be sitting in a bar that changed practically overnight thanks to an errant rumour doesn't even begin to cross her mind, and won't for some time. It's just a Sumaru thing, right? Must be.
The thought of renovating the Cardboard Dragon aside, she frowns a little as she tilts her head towards the 'menu'. It's impossible, even for her, not to feel at least a little awkward about getting asked which gun Myunghon nearly used to-- she stops that thought dead in the spot, and firmly decides to not think about it anymore.
"Well, when you say 'gun' to me I just think of westerns and cop dramas, so I got the one with the cylinder you can rotate. The police-issue one, right?" she adds. This was probably a recommendation from the bartender - baby's first revolver, if the rest of the menu is anything to go by.
<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
[ONE BLOCK AWAY...]
In the office space in Saint Bernadette's Church, Father Ryosuke Sato is chewing on a toothpick with both feet on his desk, kicked back in his big leather office chair. Aside from having to resist the urge to have a cigarette, life isn't too bad, lately. He's contemplating whether to hit up some Hangug BBQ with some of the old hands from back in the day, rekindle some networks, when the door to the office flings open to reveal a blonde lady in her early 30's wearing a cute, poofy red sweater and black jeans.
"Sato-san, are you asleep in here again? I swear I just saw Mio hanging out at that old codger's bar on my way here! What the heck would Kaorin say!?"
The sunglasses slide off of his face at an odd angle and his feet slide off of the desk. He twitches in his chair, wishing for a day where his best friend's daughter doesn't give everyone an ulcer. He pauses, then sits up with an accusatory finger pointed.
"Don't lecture me, Miraki! You and Kaorin were sneaking into bars while you were still in high-school!"
"You were an easy mark!"
***
At the mention of how much stuff from the actual drinks menu costs, and not knowing anything about Myunghon's distance from alcohol--not knowing anything about alcohol at all, really--Mio opens her purse and brings out her wallet. It's a somewhat well-worn, brown leather piece which is kind of unwieldy, since you expand it and unclip it and all that. Almost like a mini-purse, I guess. "Say, Merry-san, do you want something? I could..." she offers to Myunghon, opening the wallet to reveal fat stacks. She's friends with many Yukichis, apparently. The spoils of otherworldly business, as of yet unspent.
The initial offer of paying for booze is soon rescinded as the girl thinks better of it. "O--oh, wait, you're probably still recovering! I shouldn't tempt you with that kinda thing. I don't want to make you get ill or anything! Maybe I could get you a tonic water or something..." she seems determined to be charitable in some form, having dragged Myunghon and So-Young here to be the adult passes into an adult world.
"Master! A..." Mio scans the menu behind the bar, or at least tries to. There are a shitload of bottles and things there. All these boozes blur into a soupy image of reflective glass and fine paper labels to her. "...a tonic water times two please? S'il vous plate?"
Believe it or not, this goober is far from the strangest thing to ever come through the door. "Madame." croons the handsome old fox, a man with more salt in the pantry than pepper, who gets to it. Who is he to judge? Perhaps his eye is the wisest one here...
To the actual menu, then. The leatherbound one full of Gun's. Mio gingerly opens the booklet, whose leather binding is embossed beautifully with the bar's logo, and looks dumbfounded at the sprawling index of firearms. Sorted by category of calibre, size, country of origin... her eyes swim before it. "Oh--" she's listening to So-Young's suggestion very attentively, sitting upright as a couple of tonic waters (note for later: sonic water? new products to develop.) are brought to the group by gentle, gloved hands. "Cylinder, cylinder, revolver, revolvaru..." she mutters, flipping pages. "What, this thing?"
Mio holds up the book next to her face and turns to So-Young, pointing at a comically oversized Dirty Harry style Magnum .44. "This would break my freakin' wrist!"
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
"It was a high-class bar, before. That part didn't change," Myunghon mumbles. "And the rumour started from Chief Todoroki's office at about the same time as the rumour as the Sevens Emblem protecting you from the Joker Killer." That's making them think that perhaps they should distribute some of them. "But ultimately, the back of a bar is a deniable space for the majority of the public. So that it cognitively changed in an instant when the rumour gained traction..."
A pause, as they glance with their one eye. "... it's truly undeniable." They look towards the menu again, and then murmurs, "I'm not versed with operating guns, but I happen to know a lot about what the Swords and Firearms Control Law allots for law enforcement, and many of the items on this list--"
Like the Dirty Harry special.
"--yes, like that one... that would be exceptionally hard to get in Japan, even through black market connections." What would you know about black market connections, Myunghon? "And that just further proves the power of Rumours..."
They're distracted as So-young describes the gun they bought. Recommended by the Master. A police-issue one. "New Nanbu M60..." It's just under 50,000 yen. It's hard to grasp that their life and Ishiba's nearly ended for the price of a return trip on the Shinkansen. They're not sure how expensive the bullets are. If it was two lives, can they split the bill in half? That's a hell of a lot more than the six mon they're used to loading up in their mouth...
"... it doesn't end at handguns either. Look, there's sections for submachineguns and other machine pistols, assault rifles, and even shotguns... I'm dizzy just thinking about this."
A pause.
"No, that might be unrelated, actually," Myunghon murmurs as they place their working hand to the side of their face.
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
So-young waves away Mio's wallet with a friendly smile. "It's my treat - uh, the drinks and snacks, that is. I'm not about to try to put a gun on my credit card a second time," that just kind of slips out, but So-young resolutely continues onwards without even stopping to acknowledge what she just said, the very picture of composure. She does kind of smirk over her glass of umeshu, but in a good-natured way, because this is pretty fun to just watch happen as she enjoys a very nice drink.
She frowns towards Myunghon, a thoughtful look on her face. "It's not exactly... the most subtle of places," she ventures. "Honestly, I simply assumed a bunch of crooked cops allowed the place to stay running to use it as a supplier or something. Well, that or-- can you imagine the firefight if you tried to raid the place?" she clearly is doing exactly that, her eyebrows raising up off her face at the thought.
"Oh, hell no," So-young quickly counters Mio's suggestion. "I _wanted_ to try one, but the bartender politely advised me of the same thing and suggested it wasn't 'too friendly' for newcomers. I didn't quite understand what he meant until I watched a college kid elbow his date in the face by accident thanks to the recoil." She flips back a few pages to the New Nambu M60 as Myunghon identifies it, a short-barreled and comparatively dinky little pistol with - sorry Katsuya - rather less glamour to it than a Magnum.
She pauses to take a long sip from her drink, looping back over Myunghon's consternation. "... now that you mention it, I was pretty drunk on the novelty of it at the time, but in the light of day... I think I'll settle for a pepper spray in my bag and my conductor's baton," she pats the pocket of her short jacket, where a slim bundle is held in a long case. She's started carrying it around ever since learning of the Dark Side, because it feels right to hang onto it somehow.
<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
Maybe it will come as a surprise that Mio was actually paying attention to Myunghon, and not just going ga-ga over the book of toys this whole time. She swivels on her chair to regard the Rumourmonger, reaching up to fiddle with the brim of her ball-cap. She should really take that off when inside! "Oooh, wait--I think I get what you mean. So because someone was working a rumour about a space which isn't getting perceived very often, there wasn't much resistance to it taking hold?"
Mio lifts the tonic water and takes a sip--then sticks her tongue out afterwards. "Blep." is her 1-Star review. But, undeterred, she can't keep the thoughts from bubbling up, and asks Myunghon: "Say--do you think that makes a liminal space easier to control on short notice? Like an empty highway at night, or an abandoned warehouse?"
Anyway, back to the menu. Mio eyes up the little pistol that So-Young points out, and makes an 'o' of understanding with her mouth. "Yeah, that tracks. I don't think I could even pull the trigger on that other thing without Samson along for the ride. I think that's a no." and she keeps flipping.
* M1911: "Geh, too boxy. 7 bullets, too? That's barely more than the revolver thingy!"
* S&W .38 Special: "That wood grip is kinda sex. But that black finish is blech."
* Glock 17: "Dude, this thing looks flimsier than my phone..."
* Colt 1837 Single-Action Army: "Does that mean it was made in 1837? I don't want to carry around a museum piece!"
"Geh." Mio's mouth has formed a disgruntled little wiggle as the glamour of gun-shopping has given rise to the terrifying truth that, like all consumer goods, even these popguns are as banal and crappy to shop for as any other piece of machinery you aren't very well versed in. "I think something with more bullets is a good idea." she holds a finger aloft, fuchsia eyes aglow with gremlin energy at having knowledge about this one fact. "When Ryo-san rescued me? We were totally stuck hiding in our truck for a minute 'cause dad's suits all had guns with -way- more bullets. That's just math."
(One block away, mid-argument with one of former idol group 3SHINE's vocalists, Ryosuke suddenly sneezes and looks offscreen, scowling.)
"Maybe the pepper spray and the flashlight and stuff are the right move, I dunno... I was just thinking how when people with guns show up, and we can't just Persona them into the ground, it feels like the world's gone all wrong again... you haven't had to actually pull a gun on anyone yet, right?"
After this latest bout of expository grumbling and a question to So-Young, Mio sits up again with her hand raised. "Master! Can you recommend me an, uh, an easy... order? With lots of pep? For a modern cutie like me?" her money is on, well, if he helped So-Young out...
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
Myunghon nurses their head for a good while longer, because a headache is pounding their way into existence again and not likely only because of the concussion. "That is not untrue. Simply because a gun store exists does not mean it is immune to the law, and it is likely due to no small amount of corruption in the Sumaru Police Department that this place continues to exist. After all, a rumour is a narrative -- 'this bar is a gun store' is easily followed by 'and that was why there was a major bust' the next."
So-young tells Myunghon she'll settle for the pepper spray, though Myunghon does advise, "Do be aware that that is still illegal under the Minor Offense Act. Perhaps it matters less in Sumaru, but Minato Ward is far less of a jungle." Fuck, they've recited two laws already in the span of fifteen minutes. They're turning into KATSUYA. Weren't they supposed to be the fun, wacky person talking about Magic River Teleportation?
Mio wonders if such liminal spaces are easier to control on short notice. "The space is only one element, Kazama-kun. Remember, a rumour has to be *gossip*. The plausibility of an abandoned warehouse doesn't mean much if there isn't any social interest in it. That unfortunate rumour that has me burning in the sun now happened because I had the extreme misfortune of being photographed, and the photograph was blurry enough to stimulate their imagination."
But after a bit of browsing...
"Kazama-kun, I think we are missing the forest for the trees... just why are we here in the first place?"
Then it does, eventually, come up. When Mio was rescued, they were hiding behind a truck because her dad's suits had guns with way more bullets.
"No, hold on, back up," Myunghon is still just grappling with that statement altogether. "Your father... had... armed, hired help firing at you... with... no small amount of bullets."
The fuck.
Here Myunghon was already fucking paralysed at two guys pulling handguns on them, two little measly shots that just barely grazed them and took off locks of their hair and landed on the tatami and pillar and they're already basically wanting to throw up from the realisation that they'd just avoided their life being ended again. Here, this bubblegum-haired teen is talking like it's a Tuesday.
"Kazama-kun... do you think more, bigger guns is the way to solve the problem? You must've seen at least one article about how many school shootings there are in the United States."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
So-young watches the back and forth between Myunghon and Mio as regards rumours, and you can absolutely see the gears ticking in the back of her head, like 'what if I start a rumour about something really dumb and self-serving like ensuring Aoba Park's always packed out and then always has people willing to sponsor it?' or 'what if we spread a rumour stating that Ishiba is impotent'. Obviously that's not the actual wording going through the conductor's head, but it's certainly what it amounts to.
"So a rumour affecting something doesn't just change the thing itself, it changes other things to make sure it's feasible," is what she takes away from Myunghon's explanation, and it's clear that's tweaked her curiosity, not to mention briefly maxed out her Understanding for her to make that intuitive leap. "Or... it worked precisely because you could believe something like that would happen in Sumaru, I suppose. I wonder if you could deliberately try to catch someone in the collateral damage rather than affect them directly."
This is getting dangerously close to Understanding 3 territory, and So-young beams as she immediately walks it back. Being carefree about breaking the law for personal protection is an already established character trait, and she waves a hand. "It'll be fine. It looks just like a tube of lipstick. At the very least, I don't feel anywhere near as nervy carrying it around. I'm just a poor tourist-musician who needs protection," theatrically simpers the person who drove Icarus into a Nue at top speed two nights ago because she was too busy enjoying the thrill of flying.
It's still fun to watch Mio browse through the guns and sip her drink while listening to the young woman's lively comments on each of them, but she's even quicker to go still than Myunghon when the reason _why_ she wants a gun comes up. "Wow, your dad sounds like an asshole," she immediately and bluntly replies, which doesn't bode all that great for the inevitable talk that she and Shinjiro will have to have soon.
"... I have to admit that I'm with Myunghon here," she says after a diplomatic moment of silence and a light frown. "I'm still a beginner to logistics, sure, but if someone already has 'a lot of guns' it doesn't feel like the biggest stretch to get to 'a lot of bigger guns'." She turns the problem over in her head for a moment, and then looks back to her sibling. "What if you spread a rumour about more ways to get into Mementos, and keep a way to escape on you?"
<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
The gentlefellow at the bar turns to look at Mio and adjusts his spectacles, voice smooth and rich, a reassuring treat like a coffee blacker than night. "Madame, might I recommend anything whose model number is marked with a green tag for ease of use." he inclines his head briefly, recalling a number. "But if I were to gauge madame's poise and panache, and recommend, may I suggest item S-E-22." he returns to skillfully practicing his ice-carving skills, making a perfect sphere from a roughly-hewn cube with little more than a pick and short, quiet, moves.
Mio does some more flipping, since that recommendation is further in on the list. She's taking another drink, too, because she's paying for this crap. She might as well try to enjoy it. "Hmmm..." her mind is on the science of rumourology, as it were. Despite her flighty, playful facade, she seems quick on the uptake regarding this whimsical field. "I see. D'you think it could be something fit on a curve? Like," combination valley-girl 'like' and mathematics is a hell of a combo. "Reality-malleability, Y, is achieved at a rate of a rumour's seeding and popularity, X, plus or minus the commonality of a place being under observation..."
Mio. Mio, what the hell are you on about? Let's pretend that little part of the conversation actually happened before she talked about being shot at.
O lilac-haired one, she who smells of sports deodorant and melon lip balm. Mio looks at Myunghon with wide, expressive, inquisitive eyes as the elder proprietor of the Cardboard Dragon comes to terms with what she's just described to them. After a few moments, she nods once. "... yes." her gaze briefly flits to the table, and back up to meet their eyes. Both Myunghon's, and their sister's. Ah, there it is, the bravado slipping a little, because not-thinking about the problem is what gives Mio her courage and power, usually. "Yeah, that's right. My dad's an asshole. He's a rich, powerful asshole. I really should've just told you two before getting close like this."
"He always wanted to kill me and mom, 'cause politicians aren't supposed to have mistresses and kids and shit. So, he did. Traffic 'accident'. And he beat the shit outta me until I testified he was innocent." a single page slowly flips in the book, the scrolling of paper a punctuation to her thoughts. "And then? When Ryo-san and Koshi-san busted me out of captivity, yeah, he had a couple guys with big black rifles cut us off and try to blast us. Trapped us on the highway where everyone said the hobos will kidnap you and cut your organs up. Made me so mad, I started hearing things, started burning up, felt this mask on my face I had to tear off... been a freak ever since. Didn't end well for the other guys."
Mio sighs in disgust, looking at the book in front of her like it's radioactive. "Man... this was kinda fun until I thought about that. Now I just wanna cry."
Before she can close the book and actually collapse, or anything, the Master of the house surprisingly lays down a leather briefcase on the table between the three friends. "S-E-22 for madame, if she wishes to try." he clarifies, preternaturally graceful at the edge of the table, and the edge of everyone's perception. "And I do wish to assure madams and iel," he inclines his head politely to So-Young, Mio, and Myunghon in term, "That there is no pressure to decide this eve."
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
Fortunately, Tsubasa's way ahead of you there thanks to one Detective Akechi, So-young, on the 'Ishiba is a weirdo' rumours front, at the very least. As to what it'll do? They don't know. They're not actively trying to look out for rumours about him, certainly.
"The takeaway is that you can definitively ruin lives with the right -- or wrong -- rumour," Myunghon utters. "Though that was always already a reality even outside Sumaru, it only merely is more literal in this city. I would not be surprised if a doctor diagnosed me with anemia to explain the sun-sensitivity if I ever had another visit," as if they're saying they're never going to see another doctor in their life. "And the cravings..."
A pause, and then they brush that to one side.
Being the most responsible adult is definitely fraying at Myunghon's nerves here, because they just wanted to go to sleep and still has to meet Jack Frost and Pyro Jack this morning, not to mention make the rounds during the Dark Hour, and also negotiate for more Killer Wind Skill Cards since they've been low on that and that means going to the Pixies and they find them far harder since they caught wind that they know Shinjiro...
But Mio wonders if rumours could fit on a curve.
Myunghon's mask literally melts away as they fisheye and murmur, "No. I have two thousand, six hundred and eighty eight debunked equations, even calculating for non-supernatural control groups, and while it is easy to express cognitive pliance as a singular variable, it must be expressed as at least three other scaling factors in which the standard deviation thereof--"
They catch themself again. It embarrassed them when Hiroto was around last time, even though he was polite about it. Myunghon smiles. A smile fixes everything. It's the only way in which they can interface with the world.
Mio's bravado starts to slip, and she speaks of her dad being a rich, powerful asshole. Now that's entirely far too familiar. Tsubasa's father too... it all comes back to the rich and abusive, doesn't it? Because that's the primary motivator in which power is acquired and abused. Myunghon's smile just seems to slip further and further, however, as Mio describes the story of how her father tried to kill her and her mother.
It's too stressful, with how recent it's been since they found out their mother is perfectly willing to kill them. "I do grasp it. I do grasp the smallness and vulnerability you feel. But only eight days ago, you convinced me to not make the same mistake. I didn't wish I had to repay the favour so quickly. Sato-san wouldn't want this for you... neither do I."
Myunghon does have a quiet scowl for the Master as he times the presence of the armament for maximum emotional vulnerability. It all feels so familiar now, the terror they faced in the White Room on that night, the whispers of true power, the draping of the coat... ...and how seductive and intoxicating that is. But he also offers them an out.
They rise to their feet, bowing their head in turn, hands placed in their pockets, as Mio admits that this isn't fun anymore, how they want to cry now.
"Come on, Kazama-kun. This weapon isn't what you need in your life. There are ways to have effective weapons alongside Samson that don't involve a real weapon that, even if you never get caught, will drastically change how you feel about your own home for the worse."
Myunghon places change for the tonic water and edamame bean, then starts towards the door, glancing back over their shoulder, that black coat billowing before them. The coat that existed only starting on that day they were committed to a sin.
"... let's go to that tower you mentioned. We didn't go the other day. I'd like some fresh air."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
"There must be a way to undo it, though, surely? You have enough people that know you are not a literal vampire. Isn't that enough power to try to undo it or something?" So-young is assuming things work on sensible rules, which is quite a stretch for her, but at least she's trying to understand the situation a little rather than just gawk in silence.
That is reserved for Mio's theorizing, and then again at Myunghon's rejoinder to it. "No-one told me that the Dark Side of Sumaru was going to involve maths," mutters a stricken-looking arts major who's just been asked to plot something on an integral curve.
Something fierce sparks in her eyes as she listens to Mio's tale. As ever when someone is discussing something that's clearly important to them, So-young lapses into silence and turns into an avid listener. (It's hard to tell from how neutral her expression is at times like these, but hopefully she's not going silent just because she's being taken by the dramatic tension and does actually give a damn about what she's hearing.)
"I will get close to whoever I like, whether their father is an asshole or not," is all that she firmly states first, her self-confidence bolstering her as she folds her arms. She glances towards Myunghon at the same time, her brow lightly furrowed as she hopes the message is clear in both directions. She doesn't know the half of it yet. She doesn't make any comment on the rest of it, her mind skittering away from trying to picture that scene.
The flurry of movement is resolved remarkably painlessly - Myunghon herds Mio towards the door with a sweeping gesture, while So-young holds back for a moment to offer the Master a bright smile, a lot better when it comes to social graces. "Our apologies. We were just working through a few bad memories, and I think we'll have to put off the decision until they're sorted out. Your drinks are exquisite, though," she beams as she rises.
<Pose Tracker> Mio Kazama has posed.
"Of course, madame. Do enjoy the evening, and thank you for your patronage." the ever-smooth Master of the House dissuades So-Young of any need to apologize, or at least tries. Lord knows how many odd confessions and dramas this bar has seen. With feline grace, the man fetches his leather briefcase from the table and bows to the departing group. Perhaps to this cryptic, clever soul, the knowledge shared and gained tonight was the real weapon on sale. Who can say?
"And to the young Mistress Myo, might I recommend a perusal on the persocom sometime for inspiration on such matters. To be forewarned is to be forearmed, after all." he adds, as the three exit into the night.
Mio sniffles with frustration, but laughs all the same as she wipes a spot of moisture from her eye. She seems content in a way to have adults to seek advice from, even if the number of years between them are not very large at all. "Yeah. You two are right. Sorry. Trauma dumped on you both."
She looks over her shoulder at the door to Parabellum as it eases shut, and then ahead, to the Sumaru night ahead of them. "Okay."
"Let's go hang."
~FIN~