All The Wrong Places

I FIGURED IT OUT. AND HERE IT IS- THE CLIMACTIC SCENE OF HORIZON 2 WITH TENZOU AND MARY-

“Judge, if you would hold pride in those scars.”

Wantly -> Water Lily -> Head Over Heels

I mean it’s there in the subs (and presumably the jp). Tenzou stumbles on ‘I’ve fallen head over heels for you’ out the fucking gate. And rather than doubling back and saying what he meant, he opts to step back for a moment and compliment her. Very well at that, cute! And we also get the speech as a result. I thought it was funny how it worked out, that through his stumbles he gets tested by Mary, Fairy Queen, and himself. He comes out stronger as a result and gets a chunk of growth while building more determination for himself.

THE MUSIC TRACK THAT PLAYS DURING THIS SCENE IS EVEN CALLED ‘HIDING DETERMINATION’ BY THE WAY

It’s a great song you should listen to it on it’s own. Anyway I think this is the last time I’m gonna rb this- I don’t even really write a lot of Tenzou yet but I get genuine Alex moments of ruthless energy when it comes to this series and this character arc.

That, or these were just random thugs with no ties to her homeland whatsoever. Kyouka's unsure if she's important enough to have a bounty on her head, a prize for her safe return. They may've just mistaken her for an easy target, a weak little girl far from home and with no one around to protect her.

Unfortunate for them, really.

She... tried not to kill anyone, though it's difficult to tell when blows to the head are involved. The sprained ankle limited her options for escape; as such, holding back risked her life. But she did avoid stabbing anyone—-anywhere fatal, at least.

Even when the newcomer to the scene dismisses his weapon, she finds it difficult to trust his intentions, hence her attempt to escape. Can he really blame her after what transpired not five minutes ago?

Yet he doesn't leave her much choice. Kyouka doesn't protest to being picked up, though under the guise of cradling a bruised stomach, she lays a hand near her hidden blade.

What was such a girl doing around Mondstadt? Early guesses sort her as a refugee. Inazuma had its troubles in the past, she could have been mixed up in them. Enough to be decided by violence- from both parties.

At the least, her apparent injuries would be easily tended to- if not by him, then the maids. Or herself if she deigned to be truly untamable. As she stated- it wasn't that bad.

Something to be confirmed once they arrived. Diluc wasn't wasting time in carrying Kyouka from the storm and back over the ridge where Dawn Winery sat on its knoll in the distance.

A cheesy way to input it, but he was being genuine. Him side-glancing over at her, arms stretching over and behind his head, Nero nods his head up at Eliza. His hand waving as if to not be too bothered about her admission. Of course he'd get his jacket back, but hey! If it meant that it kept her entertained for a bit while fighting off this chilled weather, then it's worth it!

"Well, you're keeping it out of trouble AND you're making it look cool. So I would consider that being helpful. Your workplace kind of sounds like it takes advantage of yo-"

Nero suddenly pauses for a moment. He couldn't sense it, but he definitely felt it. The temperature had suddenly become a little colder rather than the earlier crisp atmosphere. His devil breaker hand coming up to halt their conversation, Nero turns his attention to Eliza.

"Hey, about that pumpkin spice and all that. I think my manager might be calling for me, so-"

Before he could try to shoo Eliza to safety, something suddenly began to click... and click. And click. And click some more. The sound was like crackling ice splitting apart over and over again- and the sound was coming in between the both of them! Without thinking, Nero pulls Eliza towards him right as a spear of ice juts out from where they previously stood.

"Aw, damnit... Hey, Eliza, can you do me a favor?"

A creature suddenly began to melt and mend from the ice spear. Its form translucent before it began to take shape. Long clawed icy nails scratched at the pavement from where it stood, its defined skull turning over towards where the other two had landed.

A sniffing noise. It seems like it picked up their scent... but for some reason, its body turns towards Eliza.

The frosted demon sprawls its claws out before lurching forward, its steps creating a sheet of ice in its wake. The monster's hiss sounds vibrant, like a slate of ice sliding against each other, as its form dashes towards them-!

CLANG! Nero blocks the claws with both his human and devil breaker hands! Catching them, but in the midst of it all having being left unable to get a chance to grab for his gun.

"I know. They say you shouldn't assign a number or anything like that to your problems, but sometimes I can't help but-- eh? What? What is it?" She blinks in confusion, attention focused on the other before she finds herself clutched! "Mmf?!" Words are muffled against the shirt but the ice answers the unintelligible questions. She pulls away, looking between it and Nero as if he would know! "What was that?!"

Well. That. What was a spear was now-

...oh god. That was a demon! Like the ones underneath at her work! Well, not exactly like it but the comparisons were too clear not to be drawn. A straight line that cut like those fingers were trying. Eliza freezes (ironically) as the ice demon clashes against Nero who jumps to her defense. His body serving as a barrier between the two as the creature hisses in cold tone.

Should she run? Does she ... can she...?

"Huh? W-Wha?" She stammers in surprise, calling all her senses back to her in the moment as her heart starts to slam in... not quite fear, actually! The things at work and all that- though the suspects getting out like this is another thing entirely!! "Okay! Uh!"

She messily yanks the garment off of her, then mustering up some surprising amounts of gusto- starts trying to beat the demon with it.

"Hey you! Leave Nero alone! Get back! Whoa- Ha!" She hits it twice, but when it starts to turn its attention (almost like that was what she should've expected to happen) tosses it as originally instructed. "There! Okay now what?!"

For appearing like a damsel in distress, she seemed concerningly hopeful for something to do in this moment. Maybe if she had some of the equipment from work she might be able to help in suppressing. But failing that...

"A writer sounds like it would be a fun profession! But no, sadly I don't think I'm creative enough to pen original stories to paper. As a researcher I uncover the stories rather than make my own. I find it rewarding work," Zelda hummed watching him grab a glass without thinking and grab some water, "I'm less in clinical research though and more into a new branch of psychology the University is experimenting with--... Our department has received some hefty grants from the government. It's all a bit above my head-- but I suppose that's what my boss is for."

She tilts her head. Should she be speaking about this so openly to a stranger? Technically the research was top secret. Although, if she planned to... not be around anymore, Zelda figures spilling her secrets to the man doesn't matter. Maybe it will unburden her heart a bit.

"They're calling it something stupid like 'cognitive psience' or something. What it essentially is-- is the study of how the human heart affects cognition-- or how one can view the world. There's some tangible evidence that this research can be helpful."

There's a pause as she casts her gaze out the window to the view of Tokyo outside her apartment window. She'd been able to afford a relatively nice apartment downtown with all the grant money. What did she have to complain about?

"...The problem is the human heart is often an ugly and disgusting thing..." Her voice became quiet as she trailed off. Her eyes unfocused for a moment, before she turned, a friendly smile gracing her features once again.

"I've heard stories! Like for example, wouldn't you only drink the finest aged whiskeys? Or-- or I've heard American gang members only wear certain colors cause if you wore the wrong colors you'd get shot? You were working with the Yakuza-- do you have tattoos then? Some type of gang symbol?" She asked-- another flurry of questions for the man.

Better to stick to lighter topics!

She reached into the fridge, finding a few eggs-- luckily, they were still good. She'd scramble them and send him on his way.

Not creative? Wylan has a mouth full of water otherwise that remark could beg comment. She was writing a story right now, didn't she realize? He chugs his way through two and a half glasses full before his stomach says room is best set aside for something solid. Still. Maybe he shouldn't be staring at her so fixedly when she was in the middle of talking.

The gaze had given her pause just as she was getting into something interesting. His nosiness wins out. Though he doesn't speak, there's a lift of the brow and a small gesture of his hand. A little encouragement never hurt anyone, right? Especially if they weren't planning to see each other again.

This was a one stop shop. With a lady who just slept on him after patching him up. He's had weirder.

"Cognition? Kinda like subconscious ways of how people view themselves? And the world around them? That sounds like a lot of hypothetical work for fancy research... let alone government grants. But you look like you know your stuff." A few key words that had been relayed to him from Faust were missing here. Palaces. Shadows. Metaverses. A world alongside ours. If they were related, that'd be...

"So... Have you ever--"

"I've heard stories! Like for example, wouldn't you only drink the finest aged whiskeys? Or--"

Before he can chime in and ask some leading questions on the matter, the blonde has thrown herself back into the fantasy of his apparent mobster life. Building out that story with additional chapters that, frankly, he ought to entertain himself. Maybe it'd add some appealing character traits if a cutie like this was popping up about it.

The best answer here, is of course, to pull the gun he had on him from his belt- a careful display of the compact pistol before it disappears just as quickly. Before she can even dare to ask to hold it.

"I was wondering if you'd have pulled it off me last night, but~ guess you weren't as exploitive of my vulnerability as I expected. Hoped? Nah. I've got more than this, but not telling you how many." On him it was just the one, but back at home he had two others stashed away.

Yakuza connections and other foreign contacts had gotten them into his hands not too long after he first arrived in Japan those months ago. Funny. It'd only been for the one job- meeting with an old ... mentor seemed too fond a word. Arnik Kestrov was dead either way. Their shadow self terminated in that other world.

"Seeing that's enough for a cup of coffee, isn't it? I may not be hungover but I sure feel like shit like I am." Wylan remarks, resting his arm on the counters as she goes about her business. He pulls up his shirt, next, just to see if that doesn't get some eggs cracked over a pan. He gestures over the scars, turning around that she could see his back was lacking in the ink.

"I've been stabbed by Yakuza, does that count for anything?.. Geez. I feel like some kind of museum display right now. Glad you're not actually a doctor or nurse or something otherwise you might be asking about the scars and I do not have the energy to spin those tales."

...

The sound of the box opening had Scarlett tensing, her head whipping around with wide eyes to see Wylan holding up it's content. The single jar, which more than likely held the essence of the creature here. The woman froze for a mere moment, assessing, listening to everywhere and everything all at once. She'd said grab the box. Not open the box. Could he not follow one simple instruction?!

And then she heard it, the sound of something heavy and thick dragging along the beams on the other side of the attic. The air instantly dropped. It was here. And she wasn't going to give it any extra time to get to them. Wylan was just going to have to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Leaping off the beam she was on, Scarlett ran as fast as she could on light feet as he spoke. Let's go was right. And right now, the fastest way was right behind him. Jumping onto the ledge and past him, Scarlett grabbed his collar as she broke through the window. Glass flew. Shards of falling stars illuminated by the full moon above them. An impending darkness seeming to close in on them from the attic room.

For a moment, they were weightless. For a moment, they were flying. And then they were falling. And fast. As their feet hit the pebbled walkway of the temple grounds, a shrill cry came from the room they'd just been in. The creature was momentarily at a standstill, unable to cross the line of the ashwood she'd laid down for their protection. But it wouldn't be long until it found another path to pursue them.

The assassin curses, ready to make an exit when Scarlett is up and with him at the beam. The moment before they hit the glass is slow- and it almost comes across as funny to Wylan. Like. Oh. They weren't honoring any sanctity of the place anymore? Interesting. Oh. They were doing something reckless? Miss flirty playful baker girl? Very interesting. He'd smile, if it weren't a split second before the shattering of the window takes the both of them out.

Instinctively, Wylan takes the defensive. Wrapping himself around Scarlett and hitting the ground with a roll that they both could easily spin out of after hitting. There's an impact, and a probable sore to deal with. But all things considered?

Exciting!

"Don't yell at me! I know that!" He barks in defiance of her accusations and instructing. "I didn't even try to! I picked up the box and it... just kind of happened! My hand just moved! I swear I wasn't doing that on purpose, it was like..." There really wasn't an answer that felt like it made sense- even given the fantastical context swirling about them in the dead of night as something growled behind them. A compulsion?

Stupid, if so.

The girl was a fair bit slower than Wylan was, and he would keep himself paced in such a way to make sure he could react when needed- like now! A chunk of stone hurled their way as the demon attempted to worm its way into an exit that it might pursue those that had taken its core away. Wylan lunges, grabbing Scarlett and holding her back as the slab hurtles where her head had just been and bounces off the pathway, sending dirt flying.

"Shit. Well. I dunno. In the end. Like." Wylan remarks to himself, losing all the decorum he'd been holding to during the infiltration. "Fuck that thing. It doesn't get my respect anyhow, why not open it."

The apology catches her off guard, and Nara turns to face him once again, eyes wide, searching for the punchline to whatever joke this was. But she couldn't find one. He was being genuine. And yet again she was dumbfounded. Painted lips part, but no words come out. Hesitantly, she takes a step toward him.

"...we need to figure out where they're going to go from here."

And now he was going to help her? Nara hadn't planned on admitting that as soon as they parted ways, she'd be conducting her own investigation. There was no way she was going to sit idly by and let someone else do the work for her. Not when it was her beloved Pokemon involved. Icy blue eyes flick to the police line. They were too close. If they caught on to their vigilantism... "Perhaps... we should move this conversation elsewhere..." Striding past him, she hesitated for a moment. Stopping suddenly, Nara looked back over her shoulder, manicured finger twirling the end of her ponytail.

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?

Was that her way of stating that he was safe… for now? A sigh of relief was about to leave his chest, before it got sucked right back in when she started measuring around his pants. This… was definitely kind of embarrassing, right? He was allowed to be a bit embarrassed about this, right…??

She didn’t seem to spare a thought about being in his personal space, though. Taking those measurements was necessary when making clothes, so he understood where she was coming from, but… the confusion regarding what she thought of him was making him extremely self-conscious. As much as he attempted to follow her orders carefully, that nervousness was making it hard to. The way she struggled to move his hand made him snap a little out of it, though. It would be hard for her to get his upper measurements like this, wouldn’t it?

“Er,” he began, hesitantly, trying to offer her a sympathetic smile. He really hoped this wouldn’t rub her the wrong way. “Would you… like me to grab you a chair?”

For a demon lord, he wasn't the bulkiest. But. For dressing him in something not quite as gaudy- it was preferred. Already in her mind she was imagining the pieces she might need. Something sturdy but with fine details. Maybe a pattern where the collar...

"Nnn."

Maybe it's how Suzy has to face up at said collar that triggers the remark. To get the bust would already be trouble enough. But his neck? The dragon doesn't blush, but she does tense up in frustration and reluctant surrender.

"I might need a stool to reach your head. If you were to sit down it wouldn't work. Even your chair here ... well obviously I won't stand on that. Or any of these books. You take good care of your things. Just not yourself. I wonder why that is?"

With bottled emotion Suzy steps back, looking almost meek as she waits for the situation to be resolved. Finding herself unable to simply solve it on her own. The stool in her prison cell was adequate for any other work. But running all the way back to get that would put her back into square one.

"You're a difficult opponent."

"Wait wait wait wait! Isn't this just abuse? Ow! Sheez!" It's enough he's defending himself at least. "I was just messing around."

Wylan scoffs. Then smiles.

HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"HiMERU doubts that was enough to cover the whole bill," he says briskly as he tucks the item back into his pocket. "Regardless, it's important to ensure service workers are promptly compensated. You implied that you lacked the funds for this, did you not?"

Based on his impassive expression, he's unimpressed that she's unimpressed, nor does he care if the gesture is noted.

At least with the cash out of the way, Eira's card could finish it's dramatic trajectory onto the table, that it might be recorded and processed for whatever remained. She'd even be able to furnish an extra stipend should the event conclude above satisfaction.

"Gh.. are you saying the joke was in poor taste? Their services are a premium, enough to make a woman like me take notice. I'd consider that a compliment- and I'm sure they'll deliver. Just as I would to pay them!"

She has no foundation for this claim. At least on how they would deliver for catering and setting up. Even the brightest of recommendations can be subject to a cloudy bad day.