Head in the Clouds

Junior is familiar with the concept of magical girls—-not his preferred genre of anime, but he's watched some before—-but... do they actually exist in real life? Much folklore and fantasy is based in reality, of course; he's been well aware of that for as long as he's been alive. Did the first person to write about magical girls see one for themself? Were they one, and figured that they might as well profit from their secret occupation? Did the genre's popularity somehow warp fiction into reality? Human belief and imagination can generate supernatural phenomena, after all.

Or maybe this is just a headache-induced hallucination. Someone with an ability similar to his own, even? Is he trapped in an illusion? If yes, it'd just be a taste of his own medicine, really.

Not that he deserves it, since he doesn't exactly exploit his power. He even uses it for good purposes!

Well, anyway, he's more than tempted to sneak away while Holly is distracted by... some guy? A villain? There's no reason for him to stay here—-unless he's keen on being yelled at again. Which he also does not deserve. He really just wants to sleep this off this headache in a cuddle puddle with his beloved cats...

Alas, just like his beloved cats, he is a curious creature, and it's not often he's faced with something so completely unlike anything he's ever seen before.

Sometimes it was cathartic to beat the fuck out of some loser. It's not like she had the time or the money to get therapy, so this was a good alternative. But Holly had more pressing matters, and she needed to make this quick.

Junior got his wish.

It only took a few minutes and a single blast of floral energy to have the shadowy figure disintegrating into sparkles mid-monologue. It'd been the third time this month she'd dusted the guy, so she knew he'd be back, but hopefully when she was less busy. Hopefully not at all, honestly.

Expression is soured, a hand running through his hair when Nara speaks up again, her finger twirling, and her expression just as foreign as his.

"...I wouldn't be thanking me. Not right now, anyway. I did stop you. I don't know... maybe something could've... no. No no. You're right. Lets keep moving. The police are busy, we'll be in their way."

And they in theirs.

Wylan follows Nara for a measure, until directing her away from the cafe she seemed to be heading towards and into a nearby park where he finds a bench. Wide enough for three. So Wylan takes a seat at the edge, clasping his hands and resting his forehead against the ball.

"...you... got your head back on, then?" Fuck. He bites his lip. Oh, that was a stupid way to phrase it. And yet in avoiding the land mine of are you feeling better had done something just as stupid. "Galactic got their headquarters here in Veilstone. But there's no way we're barging in there. Besides. I doubt that's where they'd take their gains. We'll need to scout around. Once they leave the department store."

Wylan turns his head, looking back at the building they'd exited from a short distance away. Even now the police line persisted. But... what was that leaving from the roof? A flying Pokemon? And some agents?

Listening carefully, a crease slowly formed between her brow. "How do you know all-" But before she gets the words out, she follows his gaze to the sight of the villain's escape. Up in an instant, Nara only takes a step before she hesitates. Was this wise? What could she really do? No Pokémon, no plan. Did she really just expect to follow them on foot? Hadn't she just said she'd stay level headed?

Brushing herself off, she turns to Wylan, regaining her steely composure. Scanning the park, she found it empty, most of the passerby having gone to check out the commotion at the department store... Which conveniently left a single bike unattended, and by the looks of it, unlocked. "I have an idea." Marching over, she takes a handlebar in one hand, inspecting the bicycle. Only one seat, but it did have a rear rack. It wasn't exactly legal to sit there... But it wasn't legal to steal either. So- "Think we can keep up with them with this?"

Dogi can't put too much dour inflection on his reply. Excitement like this yet somehow paled compared to all the trouble Adol had gotten into when they traveled together. It made him glad that the red haired hero wasn't here now- putting a force like that with a force like Darla?

That's the true shudder to think about- not the lingering pain of the sword wound. Besides. They made it out and escaped all the pursuers. Maybe they were confused enough they wouldn't have to worry about it at least for awhile. The woods are a decent cover- a patch of pines at the edge of the thicket bordering the cliffside. A glance down shows where they'd come from- the normal mountain pass that came through the nearby village a pleasant serpent in shape.

Given what they'd encountered...

"I oughta wash this sucker out. Bet there's a lake or river up here that created that cave system we just climbed out of... ah, it's a bit of a deep one though- don't--?" The brawler is interrupted as the spritely girl is on him with the kind of about face that takes his whimsy away in surprise.

That's not an expression he's used to seeing on her! Where the hell did that go whenever she got them into troubles? Why's it showing up now after all this--

And then the magic runs through him. Or. Something runs out of him? Dogi can't help but stare in disbelief as the injury seems to erase itself from his body. There's not a single mark left behind. Like it never even happened.

"Whoa. Whoa! What was that?!" Dogi runs a hand over, flicking away the remaining trail of blood as if his injury may somehow still be hiding underneath it. A gaze fixed on the cleric. "Wait... so... hold on, I've seen some healing magic before but-"

Darla flinches, unable to hide away the latter part of what had transpired. Dogi moves quick. Catches her arm, lifts the sleeve.

"Darla, did you take it?! Hey! There's marks all over here..." His expression implies there's some explaining to be done, but he doesn't put words to the feeling. There's guilt and fear and meekness all over the girl. All falling into pleading as she falls back.

"Damn."

He sits back against a tree, letting any semblance of antagonism or brusque slip away lest Darla panic any more.

"Y'know. I guess a lot of this makes sense now. From back at your village I mean... why they were keeping you there..." And. He'd gone and busted her out thinking she was kept prisoner. Well. She was. Definitely. Stuck there against her will. A glance more inquisitive levelled.

She didn't want to lose this. Not when she'd just had her first taste at true freedom.

It felt nice to go about her usual tasks for once. Her new normal. Collecting kindling, carefully arranging a pit for a roaring fire to be started. Scoping out the best fallen logs to roll over for seating. Fixing her makeshift bed in the best spot. Where before she'd have been humming a tune to herself to help the time pass, she was silent, her mind trying to find a place to start. A way to explain this.

Dogi deserved the truth.

Sitting by the fire, she stared at him, swallowing hard before she began. "I'm the last of a long line of healers blessed by the goddess Solaris.. My people call me Sun Chosen." Darla let that hang in the air, the weight of the words tumbling from her lips. This was the first time she'd said any of this out loud. It wasn't as if her lineage was a secret 20 years ago. No, the Sun Chosen had been well known in her region... It's why they'd been drafted in the first place. "The way the priests tell it, I wasn't even a year old when all of the healers were sent off to fight in some terrible war. And when my parents didn't come back... Well. The village adopted me, I guess."

"My first memories were in that place you busted me out of. Lots of ceremonies and rituals. Lots of time alone readin' and staring out the window. I guess that's when I really started wantin' for more... But I-" Darla paused, voice quivering. "I- I went along with it all my life. And no matter how many times I asked to even just be free to walk the town square, I was denied. It didn't make any sense to me. They'd been scaring me for years, sayin' I'd be taken away and used by bad people because of what I could do... But- that never stopped them from bringing people to the tower for me to heal." Throat tight, her eyes widened, fingers absently tracing some of the deeper scars exposed on her forearm. Never once had she admitted to having any resentment of her people... Not even to herself... But she was so far away from them now. So free.

As much as Jin hated to admit it, she had a point. She had already seen him transform. Not to mention that they were, in theory, on the same side. If Jin played his cards right, he just found himself an all new ally against the mutants. After all, it wasn't like his fellow officers were of any use against them...

With a sigh, a finger is placed on his driver and the armor once covering his frame fades away, revealing the young man wearing it. "...Jin Kisaragi. One of the officers assigned to this 'mutant' case. And who exactly are you? It's not often that I meet someone else who can fight off these freaks, you know..."

He looks the woman up and down. If not for the fight that the two had just been involved in, there was no way that Jin would expect this woman of being a fellow Rider. Then again, you could probably say the same thing about him.

Great.

There, just breathe. Now that introductions are over, names aren't likely to be repeated; even if they are, she'll be mentally prepared for it this time. It's rare to come close to losing her composure, to letting the mask slip—-but the death of a loved one is a wound that never heals, reopened at unexpected provocations. She can stitch herself back up later. For now, she set out to befriend someone, and she's not a quitter!

...it's a good thing she never uses anyone's real names for her phone contacts, so a nickname won't stick out like a sore thumb! And she assigns nicknames for a variety of reasons, and sometimes to the point of never using a person's real name at all!

"O- o- oh!" Was it okay for her to accept something so generous from a near stranger? Blythe's stomach gurgled, answering for her. "W- w- well... I- i- if you r- r- really don't m- mind..." Shyly, green eyes look into Pyrrha's pale blue. "Th- thank you."

All the while, behind those eyes lay a dormant thing. Blane. A being that had attached itself to Blythe in more ways than one. Completely unawares of the intruder that lived in her soul, Blythe was very much aware of the havoc her other half caused... Though she assumed it was herself committing the atrocities But it didn't feel like there was anything someone as nice as Pyrrha could do to bring about one of her... episodes. Right?

Surely this time it would be different. Surely this time she'd make a friend!

As she went through the rules, the young man would nod his head, there was another feeling that came to him either, he felt...bad...for not being able to help Holly before. Was this guilt? sympathy? He knew not at this moment. The young man would open his mouth after everything was said.

"Well...I have been told that I'm good at cooking at least. Sometimes I would make things for the others when we had more free time. As for a phone um...I know how to use one, but I do not have one myself, sorry. Maybe we can think of meet up places and times instead?"

For maybe the first time in his life, Zaire felt embarrassed. His cheeks went red a little bit there before returning to his usual pale colour. Up close, this 'evil cultist' seemed more and more like an uneasy young man then anything...extremely awkward to.

"As for places and times to meet, I think that will be too crazy to plan. Who knows what bullshit is going to happen and what issues I'll have to deal with. Ya know? The whole super hero thing? Not to mention I've got a few job interviews lined up and all my part time gigs to juggle. My schedule isn't exactly consistent. But..." Standing, she makes her way over to the closest closet, opening it and digging around in the mess.

"YES! I knew I kept this thing for a reason!" Flip phone and charger in hand, she made her way back to the table, plugging the old phone in and watching the screen come to life. "This is my old prepaid phone. Looks like it's got quite a bit of time left on it. 100 minutes? So we can't have long calls, but we can at least get a hold of one another and schedule the meet up. Just lemme know if you are running low on minutes, and I can get more."

Tapping her number in and saving herself as the only contact, she looks up from the screen as he thanks her. Holly stares, baffled. It was rare to be thanked in her line of work. She'd kept things pretty well under wraps so far... But Zaire... "EW! NEVER call me 'Miss' again! Just Holly! But... you're welcome..." Abruptly, she stands, turning away from him and charging for her room. Very chill. Not embarrassed at all.

The door didn't creak when it opened—because it didn’t open at all. One moment, the ornate carvings were solid wood; the next, they dissolved like sugar in tea, revealing him standing framed in the doorway with his hands clasped behind his back. He had been watching her frantic search through the walls for seventeen minutes. His right thumb still bore the faint indentation where he had bitten it raw during her particularly vigorous dismantling of the mahogany wardrobe.

He smiled right at her. It wasn't the jagged sneer from earlier, nor the predatory leer he'd worn while discussing marriage. This was something worse—soft at the edges, indulgent, like a parent watching a toddler stack blocks only to knock them down again. His teeth gleamed too white in the candlelight as he stepped forward, the dissolving door reforming soundlessly behind him. 

"Looking for something?" 

He asked, his voice syrup-thick with mock concern. His golden eyes tracked the way her fingers twitched toward a nonexistent sword hilt. Truly he found her utterly breathtaking. The way her silk nightgown clung to her sweat-dampened collarbones as she spun toward the door, the faint imprints her bare feet left on the rug in her frantic search—sent a peculiar warmth curling through his ribs. He had seen countless wives awaken in this room, but none had ever looked so... alive. Not like this. Not with fire licking behind their pupils as they took inventory of their gilded prison.

As now he found her more beautiful in this moment—unarmed, flushed, with the delicate tendons of her throat standing out as she swallowed hard. The sight sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. He had always preferred his wives to be docile, but there was something intoxicating about seeing the fight drain from her body, only to simmer behind her eyes. She reminded him of a butterfly pinned mid-struggle, its wings still quivering.

He knew she would make a wonderful wife. Not immediately, of course—she would need refinement. Like uncut gemstones drawn across whetstones until their facets caught the light just right. The thought alone sent a thrill through his fingertips. He had watched her thrash against the silk sheets upon waking, noticed how her muscles coiled when she realized her sword was gone—oh, how delicious that moment had been. Most wives wept. Some screamed. He could see that Nara had simply gone still, her silence louder than any tantrum.

“Have you settled in well darling?”

She would not appear weak to him.

Though she knew not of where he'd taken her... Or much about him at all... She'd need to gather information if she had any chance of escape. "I am not your.... darling." Nara's lip twitched at the word. Pet names were not something she included in her vocabulary. They were... intimate. Embarrassing. And that embarrassment only showed through the light dusting of pink crawling up to her ears.

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘  𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄?  A  perfectly  shaped  brow  arched  at  the  outrageous  implication  that  her  elusive  company  was  anything  less  than  a  God-given  gift,  despite  having  grown  accustomed  to  the  other  woman’s  stoicism.  It  was  only  for  that  very  reason     —     that  quiet,  unvoiced  understanding     —     that  Sayuri  didn’t  launch  grand  testimonies  of  her  greatness,  but  merely  breathed  out  a  soft  huff  of  laughter. 

❝   New  beginnings,  huh?  I  like  the  sound  of  that.   ❞  If  anyone  could  use  a  fresh  start,  a  way  to  ease  her  heart  of  its  burdens,  it  was  her     —     even  as  her  inherent  pessimism  whispered  its  rightful  doubts  about  finding  any  true  alleviation  on  one  such  random  evening,  between  glasses  of  expensive  wine  and  delicate  aperitifs. 

❝   Mm.  Why  not?   ❞  Rather  than  answering  Nara’s  question  outright,  Sayuri  chose  the  comfort  of  a  non-committal  counter  question;  her  fingertips  mirroring  the  playful  lilt  in  her  voice  by  tracing  the  rim  of  her  glass.  ❝   I  was  growing  tired  of  good-for-nothing  men  and  self-proclaimed  Casanovas.  So  I  thought  I’d  spend  my  evening  with  a  good  friend…   ❞  A  subtle  tilt  of  her  head  drew  a  deliberate  smirk  to  her  painted  lips.  ❝   …in  an  even  greater  establishment.   ❞  

Good friends.

The words cause a blush to flood her cheeks, desperately trying to hide it behind a quick toast and a sip of the wine. When was the last time she'd called someone a friend? When she was a child? "I see. Yes. Friends." It comes out flat, a statement of fact, yet she found the words to be endearing.

"Keh! I wasn't swimming anywhere! They're real, I don't have a tail, now cut it fucking out!" That was when Inuyasha backed away, an attempt to make more space. Wasn't it bad enough that he'd inhaled some of the ocean? Wasn't it bad enough that he was in physical pain right now? This woman had to make it worse by pulling on his ears! And what was with the language? Since when did anyone in his own era, other than himself, speak English?

"You need... bread dough? Why the fuck would I...?"

...Huh, so that's it.

This was the future. For a metal kart, that one was huge. If they were speaking English here, that meant he had no concept of money. Inuyasha didn't even understand the gold coins of his own period, let alone the yen they used in modern Japan. Didn't they use something called yuu suru dei? That was how Kagome had abbreviated it, once upon a time.

Inuyasha had to weigh his options right now.

"Kinda shitty t'hold that against me, don'tcha think? I told ya, I fell off a cliff. That's all I remember. I didn't wanna go anywhere than where I was." Golden eyes narrowed, ears folded just slightly. The scent of salt was overpowering, it made him dizzy. "I didn't ask you to save me." He took a moment to rub his own forehead. Overall, it was true.

This woman had saved his life.

"Doesn't look like I have much choice." Spoken with a roll of the eyes. "What, d'ya sing songs? 'Cause if I'm teaming up with you, I'm not singin' any songs, and I'm not gonna dance around like some fool, either." Expression steadying to nonchalance, two hands sank lightly into the sand.

"Where is 'here', anyway? I want some answers, 'cause English ain't my native tongue."

In fact...

"わたし の にほんじん でしょう。" (It's obvious I'm Japanese, right?)

"Neat! You must be a troupe from outside the states," It's easy for her to move past the whole language barrier thing, completely unfazed. There wasn't even a barrier! She understood him loud and clear! Except for that last part... "But what? You got amnesia or somethin'? Hit your head on the way down the cliff? Came all this way and can't remember you're in California? The west coast? The best coast!" Wiggling her fingers, she gestures all around her, as if to accentuate just how grand it was. "Well. It's dark, and there are too many damn lights from the city to see the stars here, but this place really shines in the day time."

Smiling wide she cocks her head. "Oh. I sing, dance, and bring general merriment wherever I end up. Sometimes, I like to cause trouble, but rarely." Liar. "Come on! Come on! I'll show ya! Then you can audition and we'll practice our routine." Already up and sprinting across the beach to her van, she turns on her heels, waving at him. "COME ON! IF YOU'RE FEELING GOOD ENOUGH TO MAKE JOKES, YOU MUST BE DOING ALRIGHT!"

"It'll be easiest t' care for them in here for th' time being, away from th' other cats." Carefully, he sets the box on the ground before he reaches inside with both hands to ruffle their fur. "Best t' warm them up, since they've been out in th' cold. Can ya handle that while I grab a towel an' some water?"

He doesn't wait for a response, just stands up so she can take his place. There are spare dishes in his kitchen cabinets, so he grabs one and turns on the faucet, waiting until the water is lukewarm before he fills the dish. On the way back, he grabs a towel from the hall closet.

Opting instead to share heat at a safe distance, she hesitantly reaches in, relief flooding her features as the kittens fell over themselves to brush against her hand. Nervously, she extends her other hand, trying to pet as many of the furry friends as she could manage.

He had slightly invaded her bubble of safety only to step back slightly, “n-no, it’s okay…. You can come closer.” An index & thumb reached out to catch a bit of clothing & give him a slight tug back toward her. “Really… it’s okay.” She bit her bottom lip, “it’s just you & I can see everything around me. I don’t feel trapped.”

The painting was held up for display & she couldn’t help but giggle, “I mean,.. as a gift I would keep it. But maybe I would put it in the guest bathroom, on the wall behind the toilet.” The playful tease continued when she stepped back shifting onto one foot, hand on her chin tapping as if in deep thought. “Oh yeah, actually I would definitely think of you each time I saw this. I might even tell people you painted it for me.” She laughed lightly before making moves to leave the book corner.

Only when she passed by, she had to squeeze through the entrance essentially & accidentally rubbing her back shoulders against his chest & her hips past his. It was just a second of contact but enough that her eyes widened in the sudden realization. But to spare herself to embarrassment, she kept walking hoping he would follow, “cmon I think I found something cute for you.”

Not too far away Madison found an area filled w/ old cameras & tvs. She hummed along make to not touch things that she passed. Even if the touching dirtied her hands which made her keep cleaning them to wipe away the dirty.

Madison was so focused on finding him the perfect piece for his home she was growing frustrated (this is what she did all day for work why was she suddenly so lost), she didn’t say she was frustrated but it was in her body language. She leaned in closer to inspect items, would stop, stare at Carter up & down as if she was trying to read him only to turn away w/ those shifty eyes.

She had just about lost hope in her ability to decorate when she glanced at Carter one last time. Her hands on her hips, weight shifted to one food, squint in her eyes, then….

Sh saw it…

Behind Carter, just above his head.

A wide smile grew. “Found it!” She giggled & walked right up to Carter, the height difference becoming even more apparent w/ his boots on. Then she pointed up, “seems fitting for us.”

On the wall behind him, an old vintage elevator floor dial. It was dirty gold, looked neat & wasn’t in too bad of condition.

Madison was faster.

"For us, huh? Moving in already?" Carter's eyes follow her finger to the antique dial. It was an easy reach for him, so he pulled it down, inspecting the piece in his hands. "Heavier than I thought it'd be, but I like it," And he really did. "I used to paint stuff like this back in college. Really enjoyed being meticulous and getting every detail. There's something so satisfying about finishing a hyper realistic painting after a week straight of work." It made him feel nostalgic, thinking back on all those assignments that he complained about.

' hmmm ? ' NDA ? the heck was something like that ? its head innocently tilts and a quizzical moment's taken , until --- oh . so it meant the other wouldn't be talking . ' nara , huh . ' a smile , the atmosphere robbed of its tensions by its sore lack of threat , even in the face of a razor sharp naginata and equally sharp eyes . ' never heard a' ya ~ you prefer nana or rara , then ? hey-hey , and a grade 4's still kinda low , ain't it ? '

a laugh ; if only she'd been a color ! maybe then it'd have expressed a proper interest in exchange for obtaining valuable answers , but for now even a grade 4 would have to do . the closer towards the highest upper echelon , the better . surely tucked away into a nest or wing there would be something , someone , some way to impress and earn the approval of who it was supposed to .

Perhaps she should've just let her blade answer...

Holding her position firm, Nara focused on the abnormality's movements. Erratic, jovial, disorderly. Everything she hated in the City. The very existence of such a thing was in and of itself an eyesore. How lucky she was to be given the opportunity to dispose of it.

"I'm not him."

The moment the words left it, a switch is flipped in the woman. "If you are not the Hornet leader then I have no reason to cut you down. I will let the Sweepers collect the garbage left out." Disengaging, she stands tall, serious, grip on her polearm relaxing as she rested the butt of the weapon on the ground. "But if you have been disguised in their ranks, then you must have information. How many soldiers are in their ranks? Where is their headquarters? Who is the actual leader if not you?" The barrage of questions comes without so much as a breath in between, Nara glancing at her watch like she didn't even have time to wait for their answer. Even outside of T Corp's nest, it'd become a habit to watch the clock.

Afterward, he expects a confrontation and doesn't attempt to avoid it, simply resigns to his fate and allows her to shove him against the alley wall... after a quick glance to affirm that it's gum-free. That'd be gross, and he doesn't want to ruin his coat.

"Uh... I don't know who ya are?" His brow furrows in confusion, though he has a guess: she's someone (or something) involved in the supernatural, and his little trick caused no small amount of suspicion. "Aside from someone I spilled a latte on."

He raises his hands in a halfhearted attempt to placate her. If he was a threat, would he really help her out like that? Wouldn't he use his power on her to lure her somewhere else?

"I'm no one special, an' t' be honest, I have a headache after all'a that, so I'd appreciate if ya don't rattle me around too much."

The ache is dull and easy enough to ignore, though he knows it'll linger for a day or two—-and he isn't used to being in pain. At least it was a minor illusion on an average, unsuspecting human; a more difficult task would've caused more of an issue.

Either way, he's starting to remember why he rarely uses this ability.

"This fool may be ignorant," a new voice joins the conversation, footsteps echoing down the alley as a forms shifts amongst the shadows, "but I know who you are. But rest assured: you won't stand in my way for long."

But this guy had... helped her???

Releasing him, she takes a step back, confusion etching itself into the wrinkling of her brow. What was that saying about making assumptions? Now she sounded like a lunatic! But he'd been the one to casually use his powers... "I'll rattle you however much I want until you-"

For someone who was supposed to keep her identity a secret, Holly was pretty terrible at it. Especially when it came to her enemies... And so what? Whether they knew who she was or not, she'd have to kick their ass anyway! At least she'd done a good job of hiding this from her friends and family... Wasn't really hard when there wasn't really time to see them all that often...

Turning to face the shadows where the familiar voice echoed, Holly grabbed her phone. "Oh great! YOU! I do not have time for all of this bullshit! Today was supposed to be my day off!" Without thinking, the magic swelled around her, the charm on her phone being used as the focus for her power. An uncontrollable urge compelled her to speak the necessary spell. "IRIS BLOOM!"

In a burst of light, Holly was swallowed by the bulb of a flower, latte stained outfit bursting into a light lavender mini ball gown. Frills and lace spilled out, hair tying itself up into twin pigtails, the flower blooming as she stepped out, a quick wave of her hand summoning her trusty scepter. Striking an embarrassing pose against her will, her face flared red remembering Junior was still with her.