My Art Is An Explosion!!

He sighed, shaking his head. "Alright. You may have a point."

He'd been here for a little while now, wandering up and down the ever-tangling twilit streets. Though he was beginning to learn his way around, it would still be nice to have someone who knew them better than he did to show the way.

As for the thing that drew him to the expo...

"It was..." he began, before the dull pain behind his eyes turned to a spear that lodged itself firmly between his temples. "Agh... I can't... think of it clearly."

It felt a bit like looking into a strange sort of mirror, a reflection that wasn't quite right. That thought, though, gave him pause. When the worst of the headache had passed, he lifted his head once again.

More of a mess than he wants to deal with, but less of a mess than he's managed before. Really, when he compares things like this to his life and death before, it's not so terrible. Just very irritating, with the ability to get vastly worse if he doesn't watch himself closely.

A sigh that's more of a soft hiss slides out of his throat, and he reaches to steady the other man in case the agony of trying to remember knocks him on his ass. It would have been much easier if he could just tell Deidara what he needed and the ninja could retrieve it. Damn, no dice there.

"Yeah," he nods. "It...I learned I was lied to. By my own father. I've always known that he wasn't a good man, but...Lilith learned that I was that friend from the past, and I witnessed it all." To have his memories joggled with like Tetris, he wonders what else Wilder did to him.

Still, maybe better to give them both something to distract from just staring at each other and having a serious talk.

"Come on, you talk and I'll show you how to sculpt, yeah?" He slides off the counter and heads for the back of the store, where there's a few wheels for throwing clay and all the tools of the trade within easy reach. Deidara fetches the few tools he needs, water, and a nice lump of clay before sitting down at one of the older, manual wheels and getting his clay centered.

Harukaze didn't celebrate festivals. He didn't play with the children, he shunned humanity despite still wishing he could be one of them, deep down. Kabukimono didn't have those inhibitions-- once this was resolved, who knows if he'd ever be able to play like this again?

It could be good for "him" as a whole.

"No-- it won't cause a problem," he insisted. Well... "I'm pretty sure it won't."

There were other fragments that were a bit more difficult than he was. But... from what he could tell, they hadn't done anything yet.

Unfortunately, he couldn't leap up to the bird himself without being able to harness the power of the wind, so instead, he simply scrambled up on top of an awning, then to a balcony, then leapt across. This body of his was still very light-- even lighter than his true body-- so it wasn't too difficult.

Giving a small, amused snort, Deidara reaches out to catch Not-Quite-Maof's arm and steady him when he makes the circuitous jump onto the bird. He does not allow himself to pay attention to the wood grain he can see, or the strange weight of him, or the lack of give under his hand. They are irrelevant and distracting.

"I know ninja tag, but that's a lot more violent than we're aiming for, yeah. We could just play tag and try to hit each other with these, un. See who has better aim, un." He brings out a handful of the little clay balls and rolls one through his fingers.

"Nah, I've been selling them to the kids and their parents for weeks, un. I'm not gonna sell things to civilians that will blow them up, yeah. Not when I'm not being paid to hurt people, un. They've got a tiny bit of my chakra in them, but that's just so they burst right when they hit something and fall apart with no shrapnel, yeah. It's actually pretty hard to hurt someone by throwing these; I made it so they burst on impact so you'd have to throw really hard and fast to do any damage before they pop, yeah."

He demonstrates this by taking aim at one of the older kids, hardly a teen, and hitting him in the leg with a clay ball full of pink powder. The child yelps in surprise, but then immediately whirls to try to hit Deidara, no hint of damage to be seen. The ninja promptly intercepts the missile with another of his own, making them both burst into colorful powder in midair, the other children cheering loudly.

But Kabukimono didn't seem to mind any of this-- not really. He looked down at himself, brushing off some of the colored powder in vain.

"Oh-- I'm sure it will wash out," he said, though he actually wasn't sure. Some of it might, but others... it would definitely stain. Not that it really mattered, since this body and the clothes it wore weren't real anyway.

Dei was perceptive, though, and caught on quickly-- so, Kabukimono being far more frank than his other segments, just nodded his head.

"Yes-- but don't worry. I'm still myself. Just... part of myself. It's a long story."

He shivered slightly at the thought of what had happened before his consciousness shattered, those memories a little hazy but present nonetheless.

The ninja pressed his lips together, eyeing the puppet for a moment.

"You'll explain later, yeah? Then sure, un. As long as it's not something that's gonna pop up and cause a problem before you get to the explaining part, cause I don't really feel like being ambushed by whatever new shit's happening while I'm trying to relax with harmless explosions, yeah." One chakra assisted bound carries him right up to his bird, where he'd strapped his bag of powder-filled poppers.

Fireworks.. It could be a good distraction, or even a cause for damage. Accidents can happen. And it would be good to use if she needed a group of people to.. scatter out of a building. Then, a good opportunity. Talons bared and.. that'll be that. Take the heart, then feed her father.

She shakes her head a bit. Best to lock it up for now. What if he can figure out her thoughts just by her eyes? He did seem slightly tense, after all. "I-I see.." She replies as she tunes back in. Cloak with red clouds?? The crude language suggests that they're trouble. "I'll keep an eye out.."

Then, he demonstrated his power. She can't help but stare wide-eyed at the clay bird, amazed. It moves just like one!! What kind of power did he have?! Is this normal back where he's from?

Not that it bothers him. He was a young child when he took his first life and younger still when he first began training for it. As long as her violence didn't come back to him and cause trouble for those he liked, it didn't matter to him.

As for her questions, those are easy. The bird flaps it's wings and takes off to fly around her in a circle.

Well, his present wasn't doing that well anyway. If the only way to clear his name and his mind was to stop running, then...

"I'm well aware of that," he muttered quietly, raising a hand to his aching forehead. Reflexes, instincts, the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat all over but left only faint wisps of recollection in their wake... until now he'd just elected not to think of it. Still, he sighed. "I can't return to Arcanus for now, though. Do you remember that book at the Expo? They're hunting me down now, accusing me of stealing it... even though I never even got close enough to get a real look."

By now, he was fully convinced that this was part of all of everything else. That didn't mean he could just waltz back in, find whatever piece of his past was in there and recover his memories...

And why did that idea seem so very familiar itself?

Of course, there's always another option...

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm pretty good at that, yeah. I'm not a ninja for nothing, even if I prefer explosions to stealth, un. And frankly, this place is one I understand better than that fake life they gave us, un." The blonde taps his fingers against his thigh in a rapid pattern, scanning the area around them suspiciously even as he looks thoughtful.

Hm. Ever since, Uriah has felt a drift. He doesn't know if it's because he's the one drifting away or if it's something else.

He can't pretend he doesn't see it. It's awkward at best. Too quiet. Like two strangers, but they're not even strangers. Deidara knows every single scar on Uriah's body.

What he can admit is just... he wants somewhere he chooses to belong, and someone he chooses to belong to. Bits and pieces aren't enough anymore.

Uriah would have been nice. They understand each other -- or they did. Now he's not so sure.

At first, Kabukimono meant to look for help-- after all, there were people in this world who were trustworthy, at least as far as he was concerned. Who would have guessed that when he got back to the city, he'd find the air filled with colorful powder, the street painted with rainbow hues--

Of course, he might have guessed it, apart from the fact that he didn't have a phone and wasn't exactly aware of what day it was.

It was absolutely delightful, and he quickly found himself distracted. Within minutes, his white clothes were stained a rainbow of colors as he ended up roped into a game with a group of children.

When a shadow passed overhead, though, he stopped and looked up-- a familiar blonde-haired figure, flying by atop a clay bird... was that one of his friends? Kabukimono wasn't sure, since "he" was complicated when it came to friends, but it was a start if nothing else.

He waved his arms above his head, trying to catch the shinobi's attention. "Deidara! Look down here!"

It had been a long time since "he" went missing. Surely, the people who knew him might be wondering where he'd gone.

Maybe next year he'd get a better formula for colored smoke bombs down. Honestly, he'd kind of forgotten about the festival with everything that had come before it. Catching up had occupied all his time and mental energy until the festival had actually started.

But now, he can enjoy it a bit himself. Mostly he just flies through the streets, low enough he can drop powder bombs here and there to surprise people and get attacked in turn. His bird is spattered in an impressive array of colors after he'd let several kids land hits, but he himself is pristine.

A shout of his name catches his attention and he looks down to see.... Maof? He's pretty sure that's not his actual name, but Steven's nickname seems to work well enough. Deidara huffs a laugh at the state of his clothes and drops down to land.

"I didn't figure you one for playing games like this, un. And you got caught too, tsk, what a mess, un. You're gonna be dyed forever, yeah." He looks good though, a hell of a lot happier than before. Like a different person entirely, actually, which is weird.

He stops to look at Deidara. Still himself, but Deidara was always someone that hid behind mild pretenses when things bothered him. It's a toss up. You'll either know that something was bothering him or not.

Either way, deidara was observant. He probably knows something.

"Yeah." He exhales a soft sigh. He steps back, arms fold over his chest.

The regard each other, at once close and miles apart. Deidara hates it.

"Tell me." It's softer than normal for him, a request for all its phrased as a demand. Maybe talking is better than not in this instance. He's managed a bit with Susanoo, after all. What more can it hurt him?

"Missed having you around, yeah. You've gone off after Lilith, and I'm still here by myself, yeah. Even Ito's gone, it's weird being basically by myself again, yeah." Close, it's as close as he's going to get to outright saying he's lonely and he hates it, that he wants Uriah back and knows he won't get him.

He plucks out a bit of clay to knead and fiddle with as he hops up on the counter of the store.

Something inside of Dan Heng's mind recoiled violently against the thought. Memories, everything caught in the fog that perpetually haunted his mind... it was a fog he'd long grown used to, and the thought of piercing through it seemed far more painful than remaining within the haze.

He reached up, clutching at his forehead and grimacing. "Agh..."

It hurt to think about, and yet hadn't he already understood it, just before the moment the alarms rang out over the Expo and sent him into his present flight? Hadn't he suspected for even longer that he was missing something?

"It's not that I don't believe you," his voice was a little strained as he looked up once again. "It's just... I'm not even sure what it is I've lost. Memories... they aren't always good, are they? What if... your past is something you'd rather leave behind?"

If that were true... he wouldn't even know it, would he? Despite it all, the fog clinging in the back of his mind was familiar, comfortable in a way. But he couldn't say he particularly liked the idea that someone was tampering with his mind either. He bit down on his lower lip, shut his eyes, and took a long, steady breath.

He chuckles a little bit, dry and not really amused at all.

"Course. Everyone has things they'd rather not remember and not have happened to them, un. But you're still going to flinch if someone grabs you, even if you don't know why, yeah. You'll know how to throw a punch and run from authorities even if you don't remember where you learned how to run fast and silently, un. You can erase memory, but the instincts and muscle memory don't go away, yeah." There were flickers and glimpses the whole time he didn't remember anything, and he can't believe the same thing isn't happening here too.

"You can either run and hide from your past, or you can use it to kick your present's ass, yeah."

At least, that's how he felt. Deidara was anything but a coward when it came to what he'd done and what he'd gone through in the past. It all made him stronger now.

Oh dear. What kind of place did he come from? How is it still intact if war is so often? To the point that people are used as living weapons? She tries to imagine it, but all she could think about is that land being nothing but pain and suffering.

"I see.." She said, her voice holding caution. Though, he doesn't work for those villages anymore. Despite the abduction, this place seems relatively peaceful in comparison. "But, since you're here, what do you do now? There's no wars here, at least I don't think so? And how did you make.. That dragon thing?" Kraehe questioned, tilting her head slightly.

Frankly, he doesn't know how it would go if other ninja were to show up. He's been around long enough that he might have the home field advantage, but there were a lot of very powerful people that would have reason to want him dead. And not as many allies as he'd had here before. Then again, the couple he does have are also pretty powerful. Still, he doesn't care for thinking about it.

"If you see someone else in a black cloak with red clouds on it, let me know, yeah? They're mostly a bunch of dicks, un." His own cloak was staying in his closet and not emerging, thanks.

"As for the dragon, I make them out of clay, un! Clay and my chakra, so I can animate them and make them explode, yeah. Here-" He stuffs a hand into one of the ever present clay bags at his side, letting his hand-mouth take a bite. By the time he holds his hand out toward her, the mouth on his palm is spitting out a little bird, similar in shape to the songbirds common around the Isle, though simplified. It stretches its wings and tilts it's head at her.

🕷️🕸️💙

Of course, that didn't explain much about Dan Heng's own troubles. Either way, though, it would be much better if he didn't drag the people around him into whatever mess he found himself in-- least of all someone already struggling to make sense of his life.

He sighed softly and shook his head. "You go get some rest. Maybe you just need time."

He should be getting home himself. Though he'd managed to slip away this time, the longer he was out, the more likely he was to run into some new trouble-- and he'd rather avoid having more than one run-in with the law in one day. He'd managed to avoid having to explain himself at the police station already. He couldn't count on that kind of luck sticking around.

Right. Rest first. Maybe his palms will stop itching.

"Yeah, I think I will. Thanks. Maybe I'll see you around and I'll let you know if I try your idea, huh?" He mustered up a grin before hiking his bags on his shoulders again and turning to head off.

He's unhinged.

She can still hear the screams from the distance.  Kraehe looked behind him to look at whatever chaos he caused, before looking back to him with slight skepticism. "Okay.." She says, her voice trailing off a bit. "I accept your apology. You behave better than other people I know." Slightly. "Pardon me for asking, but.. What's a shinobi? I don't think I ever heard of that, before.."

"Most people around here haven't heard of them, un. It's pretty weird since where I'm from, we're everywhere, yeah. Shinobi are ninjas, we work for ninja villages as soldiers and living weapons and such, yeah. There's a lot of wars where I'm from, un." He shrugs, apparently not bothered by that fact.

Its kinda hard to be, when he'd been trained from a young age to be a soldier. War is what he was raised for.

"The rain... yes, I know to stay out of it," he nodded. "I ended up... entangled in some things again, a little bigger than last time. At least here, the police department doesn't have much of a presence."

If they had one at all-- he'd not seen a single droid or uniformed officer yet. Which was just as well. He flinched slightly as Dei pulled him aside, but followed, a prickle rising along his spine as he heard the other's words.

"... Remember?" he asked.

Remember... remember what? Dan Heng felt uneasy, recalling the night of the expo, the exhibit he'd caught a glimpse of just before everything fell to pieces, the sound of waves crashing about his ears, a train's whistle echoing through the cosmos...

He winced, the ringing in his ears rising to a fever pitch as he pressed a hand against his brow.

Maybe this will be a new record for lows. Seems he's good at making those lately.

"Breathe," he says, low and sharp. "It hurts like hell, but you have to breathe through it, yeah. If you can remember, things make sense again, un. You were telling me about performance art, remember, yeah? Temporary art that's meant to be destroyed, un. That's mine, that's my art, but I couldn't remember until I saw this at the Expo, un. Something took it from me, and I had to take it back, un." He holds up the clay bird, the last bit of clay he has on him right now. It stretches it's wings and eyes Dan Heng, like it knows what's going on. In a manner of speaking, it kind of does.

"Dei."

How long had it been since he last saw Deidara? Uriah thinks of the latest time, and, huh, it HAS to have been during that latest festival, just before his and Lilith's memories called to them. Just before Gaia had shown herself.

A lot happened.

Something's changed, or a lot of somethings. Deidara can tell; the way Uriah holds himself is different, the way the other man says his name. He frowns, lips a little tight, then twists it into a grin.

The other man was never really his, so really what's it matter that Deidara has the distinct feeling that he's lost him? He's used to not keeping what he wants, and so he can brush off the sting of it easily enough.