no honest way.

your local ordinary magician who tends to solve problems by virtue of being the nosiest person in the room

once followed an eagle on a whim in the middle of a blizzard for funsies because it seemed interesting at the time so like yes, she will do whatever she want if it catches her eye

“it ain’t magic if it ain’t flashy” among other credos she possesses

her style of speech comes off a bit impolite but she’s pretty well-intentioned at heart, albeit a little bit of a gremlin who can and will cause problems (on accident or on purpose)

she really ought to move out of her current place seeing as she’s kept up her old habits of hoarding everything in sight that holds any value to her, ranging from the magical to the mundane

★ : she's digging in the dirt in the mistwood without a care in the world; marisa has never been terribly concerned about the potential danger of almost anything, and she's not about to start now. there's an abundance of mysterious plant life that she's aching to get her (literally) grubby little fingers on. it doesn't hurt that there are plenty of mushrooms out here too, most of them edible - by her book, anyway.

marisa almost doesn't hear him walk up on her, but those steps quietly thudding in the dirt are still louder than the solemn silence of the forest. she sits up on her knees, wipes the sweat from her brow, and looks over her shoulder.

★ : the shop was boarded up across the front windows; it was a sight marisa had somewhat expected, given her extended absence from the city proper. how they thought a girl her size was going to pry the large pieces of nailed-on wood off all by herself - without damaging her precious shop - was beyond her. explosive magic was all fun and good until you needed a more delicate touch, she realized.

as another girl passed her by, marisa waved, half-desperate half-exuberant, unwarranted cheer.

marisa, personally, was not enjoying herself. this wasn't going nearly as well as she had hoped when jumping in to mediate the apparent dispute between the two parties over… what exactly were they arguing over? had one conned the other? stolen something? she'd already forgotten. they were still bickering in spite of her efforts, and the situation would likely turn to blows if nothing was done.

was that a bystander, watching from a distance? they'd probably come to visit the discreet market the pixies put on at their whims and instead found everyone gathered around the warring duo at the center.

'hey you! yeah, you over there!'

“well, it’s supposed to be a magic item. not the most impressive-looking, i know -especially after what they’ve done to it.” 

if he didn’t have so much practice pretending to be personable, he wouldn’t have been able to keep the frustration from his voice - but as it is, he just lets out another little laugh, as though having told a joke. 

“but i guess you could say it does have sentimental value. lots of it, in fact.” 

though the sentiments he holds towards that tiny object are far from the kind that make you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. the gnosis - the real gnosis -, is his birthright, so the sight of it elicits both a righteous anger for having been denied it, and a sense of vindictive triumph for finally having it fall into his possession.

until the filthy scum in charge took it from him, that is.

“that’s why i have such a vested interest in getting something that resembles the original more closely… to be given such a cheap imitation of something so important - it’s sad, isn’t it?” he sighs, and for once, a bit of genuine bitterness bleeds through his tone. 

“the cost isn’t a concern. get the most expensive materials, if you have to - i just need it to be able to act as an alternative energy source, at the very least.” 

★ : ah, so he’d had one of his personal affects effected by the island. her burgeoning curiosity only grew in response to the lack of information provided, but marisa suspected that was on purpose on his part. fair enough. she relished this sort of mystery popping up in her midst; the island was so terribly dry of good, local drama sometimes.

‘it is kinda sad-lookin’, i’ll give you that.’ she twiddles it betwixt her fingers; the plastic is smooth and cool to the touch, but there is truly no magical power there.

‘alrighty then - i guess i’ll give it a solid go.’ she nods a couple times while still holding the chess piece in both hands, making eye contact with him from across the counter as she does so. this isn’t someone she trusts by any means, but a job is a job and marisa is tired of sitting around doing nothing all day long in-between the spells of chaos and discord that descend upon the island all too infrequently. the serious expression that settles across her features is uncharacteristic, but she feels it’s only appropriate to match the atmosphere of her would-be client.

Thanks to Megumi’s suggestion, Yuuji attacked the trees with bandaged fists. He had seen boxers in movies wrapping up their fists, but never connected the dots between protection and the wrappings. Megumi taught him how to wrap up his knuckles and observed Yuuji’s technique when he began applying the bandages.

Now, he’s able to punch the thick bark with little affliction to his skin. Yuuji hammered away at the tree until he heard another’s cry. He turned his head towards the source, looking at the mischievous witch. The next words caught him by surprise. Yuuji never realized that other people would be in the woods to enjoy the environment. 

“Oh, sorry!” he dipped his head in an apologetic bow. “I’m just training to get stronger. What are you doing here?” 

★ : not the answer marisa had expected, but it’s an answer nonetheless, to a question that wasn’t burning for a good reason. at least she’s got his attention for the moment. and maybe, just maybe, this will break up the boredom that’s settled over her day.

‘don’t hafta apologize.’ she nods her head and offers a little two-fingered wave. conveniently ignoring that he’s asked her why she’s out here. ‘though i guess if there’s anyone - or anything - else out here, you might find out real fast, i guess.’

“i am.” 

he already knows she won’t have exactly what he needs - but he didn’t come in with that expectation. he just needs for her to be of use - and the shopkeeper seems to be knowledgeable enough, at least.

of course, there’s still the chance that all that confidence is false; she could just be overselling herself. 

either way, he’ll find out the truth soon enough. 

“though perhaps not in the way you think.” he lets out a little laugh, and then pulls out a small object from his robes. what looks like an elaborate, purple chess piece is placed onto the counter for the girl to examine. it looks decent enough from far away, but a closer look will reveal that it’s made of nothing but cheap plastic. 

scaramouche resists the urge to smash it into pieces, its very existence mocking him.

 “i was wondering if you’d be able to recreate this, but make it a lot more durable. enough that it could withstand a considerable amount of energy.” 

★ : there’s a weird vibe about this guy, but marisa can’t quite put her finger on it. then again - she’s not exactly a good judge of just about anyone, much as she might like to pride herself on her myriad other skills. maybe he really is from her world? who knows. it’s not quite as important as the request he puts forth, and it’s a tall order at that.

item creation is definitely not her specialty, though she’s got some experience in that area; it’d have been difficult not to, what with all the time she’s spent bugging kourin and experimenting on her own. she’s still not on his level, though, but a challenge is hard to turn down.

‘huh.’ the only thing she manages to say is tinged with a mix of surprise and rising curiosity.

@casualtheft

as soon as he enters the shop, he takes note of how cramped everything seems to be - the small space combined with the stacked shelves displaying all manners of merchandise makes the shop feel crowded, even when he and the shopkeeper seem to be the only ones inside.

but he’s not here for the merchandise. walking up to the counter without sparing the rest of the shop another glance, he sends the lady there a smile. 

“this is a… magic shop, right? i saw the sign from across the road, and got curious.”

“looks like you’ve got a lot of stock here. do you make all of your goods?”

★ : the business hasn’t exactly been bustling lately, though marisa goes through the motions of dutiful shopkeeper (for the most part; she’s a little too flexible with the actual hours). the boy who walks in looks like someone who could be from her home world, but she highly suspects he’s not on the sole basis that she knows most all of the humans back home - and most of the youkai, as well.

‘i mean, that is what the sign says, but who knows, right?’ she gets incredulous reactions all the time from curious passers-by and the like, but usually they’re pretty easy to sway and send on their way - usually without buying anything, but so it goes.

★ : in the night, she could see the sky-strewn isles from the mainland. while marisa had always dithered about going to explore that miraculous floating land, something had always held her back. laziness? lack of motivation? she certainly was growing a bit weary of all the constant mayhem going on around here, and it wasn’t for lack of getting involved in it herself from time to time.

instead of following a whim, she sits outside on one of the benches and gazes upward towards the sky. it’s not really stargazing, nor is she particularly focused on any one thing, but the moonlight drenches everything and everyone - a crystal clear night. it’s perfectly suited for... doing nothing but lie on a bench. she’s really lacking the motivation these days, after all.

she hears footsteps, and only half-manages to cock her head towards the source of the noise.

‘oh, you get restless at night too?’ in spite of the terrific visibility, the area itself is deserted. funny, given that you can hear the clamor of the nearby opalarian market during the day from much further away; right now you could hear the proverbial drop of a pin, she supposes, if she listened real hard.

★ : the constant, echoing sound of pounding is distracting marisa from her work in the mistwood - there are plenty of valuable herbs and fungi, and very little daylight in which to collect the more rare breeds that only seem to appear in the light, scant as it shines through the boughs above. she’d normally just plug her ears and go about her way, but curiosity as to who or what is out here with her is just eating the magician alive. she’s got to go and have a look.

the source of the noise, she finds out, is a boy whaling on the trunks of some very large and (thankfully) sturdy-looking trees. what a weird thing to do out here, of all places.

‘hey!’ when she catches his attention, she offers a little wave, a wide grin plastered upon her face.

SEEING PEOPLE LEAVE THE LIBRARY, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for them to use the door, whether or not they themselves seem so or not. and yet, to suddenly stop in place and observe someone make the elaborate choice of vaulting over the fence of a nearby place was, frankly speaking, eye-catching as ever. golden eyes don’t really conceal that they remain on her person, nor the book that she now conveniently holds with both arms against her chest.

or, well, the fact that she has taken note of her, too, and has now suddenly asked a question as if she hadn’t just witnessed this all.

❝ Saying you’re an ordinary magician only makes you more sus, you know. ❞ maybe she actually does know and is trying some reverse psychology on her. honestly, deep down, she thinks maybe it would’ve been better if it worked. ❝ And I’m not a youkai. I’m a Kuranta. Or I guess someone with horse traits, if that doesn’t ring bells. Maybe you can look it up in that huge book you’re casually toting around? ❞ not that she can see the title of it right now, but it never hurt to take the shot on if she could weasel out what the contents might be.

★ : ok, so she wasn’t a youkai but - was she actually just a weird looking human? that was too much effort to put in thinking about something that ultimately didn’t matter, in marisa’s opinion. more important was how this conversation had taken a turn down an alley she didn’t really feel like dealing with.

‘look, it’s just a job title, promise. anyway, ain’t it more suspicious that you’re like, part horse?’

‘i mean, not that that’s weird or anything. just suspicious.’

she shuffles the tome around in her arms - it‘s bulky and unwieldy, and she can’t quite carry it one-handed. what a pain. this is why she keeps all her handmade books just the right size for stuffing under your armpit when you have to take off running.

The voice catches him off guard, and G’raha juggles the vial in his hand until he catches it firmly between his palms. G’raha Tia releases a sigh of relief, aware that he may have unleashed tremendous devastation. He carefully sets down the vial on the shelf before looking over to the shopkeeper.

“You have an impressive array of tinctures. Whilst I am no alchemist, I dabble occasionally in the art, if only to learn more about the arcane magicks behind their creations.” G’raha approaches the counter with a happy smile, eager to learn more from this young woman. Age did not matter for G’raha, he spent centuries locked inside a tower, learning as much as he can. No matter how young one looks, it doesn’t tell the person’s knowledge.

“Why yes, I have plenty of inquiries. Ahem. I am a mage, a White and a Black mage. I can– or I used to be able to manipulate magicks to heal and destroy. However, I am without my abilities in this world save utilizing my aetherial energy to heal. But I digress. I wish to have a concoction that can emit an explosive fire. As means for protection.”

From a very intrusive and annoying Ascian.

★ : it’s probably for the best he didn’t drop whichever of marisa’s concoctions he had in hand - a fair amount of them were highly explosive. not that most of them advertised that on the labels, illegibly written in her chicken scratch handwriting. still, she’s riding on the excitement of having a prospective customer; it really has been that long.

‘it’s a self-taught sorta deal for me, but i guess i do kinda have a knack for it.’ she still appreciates the compliments, the warm fuzzy feelings they give her. it’s always nice to be appreciated for something. marisa tries not to let it show on her face, though, just smiles from behind the counter before leaning her head forward on her folded arms.