fierce.

@piercingeyes

It’s been two months.

Two months since this city started throwing the most painful thing at him yet. Having to come face to face with the person he feels like he let down most of all, after she’d already died, an event both gut-wrenching and logically impossible. Even after these two months, he hadn’t been able to get over his pathetic behaviour. He hadn’t been able to send Aries and Stella a letter to ask for an explanation, and neither had he been able to decide whether he wanted to accept or deny this situation. This state of doubting and leaning both to the ‘yes’ and ‘no’ was so inherently unlike him, and in a sense, even disgusted him. This indecisiveness was a weakness, and he hated it.

How could he say he had grown, when faced with this, he loses all balance once more? How could he say he’d grown stronger, more experienced, when even now he’s still shaken and can’t decide?

It’s pathetic, and this time, when he woke up, he felt like finally, he had decided on what to think. Specifically, what to think- not what he felt. To feel the confusion and mixed emotions, he couldn’t help it. But what he could decide was on how to think about this situation- and what he decided was to accept it as truth. To accept it as Peko Pekoyama, the Ultimate Swordswoman, but most importantly, his close friend, no matter in which way she’d ever view herself- a woman important to him.

Even if… Even if he doubted her survivability beyond the walls of this city still, he felt it wrong, unfair even, to just ignore her, or to tell her to stay here, or anything of the sorts. No- even if it meant the possibility of losing her again, he had to step up. He owed her that- to be better than he was before.

With this determination it was that he got ready for today. He’d assumed - hoped - she’d continue to attend Aster Academy, even if only because he was there. She deserved to have a life of her own, separate from his side, but then, he wouldn’t want her to leave for good, either, so if just for now, it’d be nice if they could just be students together. It’d make her easier to track down, too, and so he’d gone to school earlier than normal, waiting by the entrance in hope of catching a glimpse of her, or seeing her walk by. He started to consider just skipping out on school to try and find her in her room instead when he finally saw her.

“Ah- Peko..!”

In the time that passed from their very first meeting, Peko has been patiently waiting for the moment when she would be sought out. The idea of the event never occurring crossed her mind a few times, only to be rapidly dismissed with a shake of the head. Doubt had no place here, not when she knew better than to allow it to root itself into her mind; she knew better, or at least that’s what she kept telling herself.

Diligently, she carried through the days as best as she knew, using the past to guide her. In their time spent at Hope’s Peak, it was requested that she does things of her own; that she goes on to live her life as any normal student would, indulging in activities that she likes. Fuyuhiko’s words from back then come to mind and she grasps onto them, trying to uphold to the request made. It comes natural for Peko to obey, after all. Her role dictates that she does such, without stopping for a moment to question what is asked of her.

Daily, mundane activities are not familiar to Peko as they are to others. While she has never shown any sort of aversion towards group activities or simply hanging around with others, blending in doesn’t always come easy. She is often left to wonder whether or not the course of action taken is a good one, if she is upholding her word accordingly; at the very least, she makes a conscious attempt to do so.

A new day presents itself with new potential; with a new chance given. Even with most thoughts locked at the back of her mind and worry pushed far back along with them, Peko can’t deny hoping for change to occur. And it does, with the overly familiar voice calling out to her, drawing her out of her own thoughts. Steps come to a halt and crimson eyes widen, lips parting slightly in surprise. Stood just a few feet away from her was Fuyuhiko, waiting by the entrance to Aster Academy.

“...”

This was what she wanted, what she’s been desperately waiting for and yet words remain far out of her grasp. Lips press together, forming into a thin line before relaxing, allowing a silent breath of air to pass through.

@piercingeyes ♥’d!

      “ U-uhm… “ It takes her a few moments to gather up the courage to even approach the other, and starting up a conversation is proving to be harder than she thought it would be. There’s an awkward vibe emanating from the nurse, her hands in front of her torso, fingers fidgety and gaze focused on the floor. They hadn’t really talked much before, so they weren’t exactly close per say. But Mikan thinks it’s best to talk now than never do it, so she takes a deep breath and focuses on the female’s figure.

      “ P… Pekoyama-san…? “ She calls out softly, and her gaze lingers, awaiting a reaction. Hopefully she still remembers her, even if she’s just a nuisance.

When a familiar voice calls out to Peko, the swordswoman takes a moment before she turns around. She’s greeted by a sight that is just as familiar as the voice itself; Mikan Tsumiki. It’s equally surprising and pleasant to be able to see yet another familiar face within the city, although concern rests at the back of her mind.

How did another one of them make it here? This remains a question that none of them seem to be able to answer, no matter how hard they tried to remember. For that reason, she wonders if it’s worth asking the other about it. Foolish of her to even question that; it was something that needed to be brought up, for obvious reasons.

This city was strange. It was so bright, so pure, so safe. 

It makes Vincent skeptical, it makes him think that if this is a reality and not a strange dream, it’s a trap. However, it matters not, at least for now. He can adapt and make a plan to return before too long.

But would returning do any good to anyone? To his brother? 

If anything, he’s sure they’re happy he’s gone.

“Ah, I’m sorry miss. Am I blocking the road?” He barely realized he stopped walking.

@piercingeyes

By now, some things could be considered routine. There isn’t much different between how Peko carried out her days back at home, compared to how she spends them nowadays -- perhaps, if one truly were to pinpoint a solid difference, it would be that she’s seen by herself a lot more. Over here, she has more liberty; freedom is something that still feels far-fetched, oddly out of her grasp. It’s a detail she has been trying not to think about too much, not to over-analyze; it did her infinitely a lot more harm to think about it, than not.

Trapped inside her mind, as the train of thought further unfolded, Peko walked without paying much attention to her surroundings. This is a mistake that she’ll scold herself for later on; it’s not something she ever ought to do, even when the sidewalk is empty. Or, mostly empty. Finding herself colliding into the back of another individual -- a male, as she quickly makes note -- is embarrassing and, as she takes a step back, she moves to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose, fixing them into place. “There is no need for you to apologize, I was the one not paying attention to where I was walking.”

Ah.

He looked up from the ground, at his own hand. It tensed up, and surely, she must’ve noticed when he almost pulled his hand away in a short panic.

Almost.

Her hands were actually rather warm. Very alive. Not at all dead. It was conflicting, to say the least. He wasn’t sure whether he should feel relieved (”Peko, it’s really you after all?”) or horrified (”You can’t be her, she’s dead!”). To some extent, what he felt was both.

For a brief moment, he wondered how his silence would be taken- but even so, he had to take his time to form each word and thought separately. Frankly, it was ridiculous. What was he, a snivelling schoolgirl?

But you can’t really expect someone to be all cool and powerful when a situation is as impossible as this.

“You can’t just… Expect me to think that… That all works and shit, right..?”

Fuck. His words didn’t even sound convincing to himself, let alone to anyone else. Why couldn’t he just accept it? It’s not the weirdest thing he’d seen here in this city, if you looked at it that way. There would be the possibility, that in a fucked up place like this, something as equally fucked up could happen?

But that had connotations with leaving this place that he wasn’t willing to accept, either. Such as the state of survivability beyond the metaphorical walls.

“This is messed up. This entire place is messed up. None of these fucking things make any goddamn sense, yet here they fucking are anyways. Forcing me to accept things that are just goddamn impossible.”

…

But hadn’t so many impossible things already happened? Could he allow himself, to believe in just one more? He knows he probably shouldn’t…

The hand, which he’s still unable to retreat as he should, loses some tension. He doesn’t know what else to do with it yet.

But he can’t just pull it away.

For each step taken forward, two consisted of pacing backward.

Fuyuhiko’s gaze lifts itself to look at their hands and, when she felt him tense under her hold, Peko expected him to draw back; he didn’t. This is one of the many ways in which he surprises her, with minuscule gestures that amount to more than he might let himself believe. Even when silence is left to momentarily reign, Peko can’t help but let a quiet breath of relief pass through her lips.

By all means, things were far from being alright. Yet, even with harmful words being directed at her, even with uncertainty still lingering, Peko managed to remain stalwart; unwavering. This is the strength that he breathes unto her, unknowingly.

“I apologize if my sudden appearance has brought inconveniences.” She reiterates the apology from earlier, soft-spoken and gentle. “I have no expectations,” There’s a brief pause and she bites her tongue, holding back from saying it wasn’t her place to expect anything out of Fuyuhiko; it was always the other way around, or so it should have been. “I acknowledge that the situation is bizarre, at the very least, and I cannot justify much past what I’ve already told you.”

Silence fills in the space between them once more and, the words that are about to leave Peko’s cause pain to ripple through her chest. “However, if you’d allow for me to remain by our side, then I will. If not, then I will remove myself from the picture.”

…

Huh?

So, there’d been some things Fuyuhiko had expected. Mainly he’d expected the other to back down and stop trying to mess him up. He thought the expectations he’d put down were clear enough in the way they were unachievable. Otherwise, he’d expected them to make some futile attempts at giving proof he couldn’t deny. Probably some stupid things like his birthday, or the names of his parents, his house address… Trivial garbage that anyone with a good enough head could figure out if they really applied themselves. Information that didn’t prove anything if you really thought about it, because it wasn’t private or it wasn’t secret.

What he didn’t expect was, well… Actual evidence.

Even though he tried to convince himself that others could know about that, or even have it, it just wasn’t possible. He wouldn’t have told anybody else about this; and frankly? Neither would Peko have. And even then, if someone did find out, if someone did dig deep enough,

They couldn’t have it. Peko’s body had been cleaned up and disposed of by Monokuma, yes, so technically he could’ve had it, but he wouldn’t have known to even look for it, right..?

“… But..?”

He tries to sort out not just his thoughts, but his feelings on this as well. He’d figured himself annoyed, pissed off, irritated… And he hadn’t given it any thought beyond that. But now he was just… Confused? And cold. He should’ve felt hopeful, perhaps, but instead there was a cold, heavy feeling in his gut.

He could barely even meet her eyes, looking down at the ground after only a second of contact.

“… But? It’s not possible… How did you… When… How?”

How does someone return from the dead?

“I do not know how.” Because it remains a stand-alone fact that death is irreversible and those that have been seen not by one person, but by an entire collective, to have died aren’t meant to ever be seen walking again. Yet there is Peko, sat in front of Fuyuhiko in flesh and bones; breathing, talking much as any other person would.

“All I know is that I mysteriously woke up one day in this city. The most answers I was provided with was through a letter that got sent to me moments after I opened my eyes, but those were hardly useful.”

It’s a little ironic, how she desperately wanted Fuyuhiko to believe her; to know it’s her. And yet the reaction that her response evoked from him does nothing more but shatter Peko’s heart in millions of tiny pieces. Unbeknownst to her, a lump had formed in her throat, one that she swallows thickly along with the words that she readied herself to say.

Their actions mirror one another, seeing that her gaze turns towards the ground too and hands form into fists, unintentionally bunching up her skirt a slight. The pain in her chest has dulled, with only faint echoes of it rippling through Peko’s being; the feeling of emptiness settles in, bit by bit.

“I did not know what to do when I woke up here by myself.” She starts out, speaking in a soft-spoken voice. “Was I meant to rejoice? If so, I disappointed whoever brought me back, because such a feeling was out of my grasp.” Gradually, a tremor begins to seep into the tone of her voice, words becoming shakier the more that Peko spoke. “I did not believe myself capable to be reunited with you, therefore I served no purpose. But I… I suppose I have been wrong, by whatever chance there was.”

As her gaze upturns, Peko lifts herself from the ground and stands up. The steps taken forward are small, shaky -- hesitant -- but the space between them is closed. Perhaps it’s instinct or deeply rooted selfishness that overtakes her, overruling the woman’s otherwise heavily rational mind. Had it been any other moment, then such a gesture would be considered taboo, but now Peko takes Fuyuhiko by the hand, encasing it in both of her own.

there’s nothing now, other than a twinkle, subtly baffling her for a moment longer. jabami’s eyes were madness incarnate, blooming incomprehensibly in the midst of her thirst for gambling. this woman’s eyes are more of a subdued red, unassuming at first glance. but sayaka’s wary anyway, because reminders of the transfer student reek still even in that state, and just the thought already sends shivers up her spine.

but the similarities end there, and for that she is eternally grateful.

she really should stop staring so openly.   

“ah . thank you .” gratitude slips past muted words, and thin fingers take the lily from the other’s hand. unharmed, even with the fall, which she’s thankful for. she wants to apologize again, but it doesn’t bare repeating, not when the deed’s already done. so instead she says, “do you mind if i ask ,” holding the lily up, eye level, admiring it with a hint of a smile, “would you consider this to be an adequate decoration for one’s room ?” 

“You have nothing to thank me for.” Blunt, sharp -- such are Peko’s words, but there’s no ill-intent behind the way in which she words herself. This comes down to preference, as well as her upbringing; she was always taught to be swift, straight to the point. Albeit that applied to different cases than the day-to-day conversation, her speech pattern ended up constructing itself around the concept.

As the lily leaves Peko’s grasp, fingers slightly brush against one another. She retracts her own hand, allowing the arm to rest by her side as it previously has; the question make her eyes turns towards the flower, silently regarding it while pondering over an answer. “That depends on what the room looks like.”

Prove it to him..?

Why are they so insistent? He thought he made himself very clear. That Peko’s dead, and that he knows this. It’s no secret that apparently, he’s forgotten many things happening, such as his first year at Hope’s Peak. The matching class trial proved as much. But there’s no such thing as seeing someone literally die, and then forgetting that they survived it- because it wasn’t something you could survive in the first place.

But then why did they insist so much? Why were they so determined to prove to him that they were Peko, and Peko was still alive? He just couldn’t figure it out. It’s not like they could change his mind.

Right?

He hated this whole situation, and he also hated how he doubted himself. Was it because he wanted her to be alive? Was he just throwing all rational thought aside? No, he couldn’t. He’d prove them wrong, and call them out on their shit, right here, right now.

“Prove it, huh? I doubt you could. I won’t believe it. Unless, you could tell me one thing, just one thing no one else could know. And don’t try any of the Killing Game bullshit, because if Monokuma was there to fuck the whole thing up, then anyone could know.”

Surely, it must be an impossible request. There are things that, even when the truth of who Peko was came out, no one would’ve or could’ve known. Something even the best imposter couldn’t know. Undoubtedly, there would be other ways to point out all the bullshit of this bizarre situation, but wasn’t this a good and clear a way as any?

“Can’t fucking think of any, right? Because you can’t know. I could tell you to prove your skills instead, as only Peko could, but it’s all fucking pointless if you can’t even do that much.”

Peko remains silent-still, accepting each and every single word that is tossed at her without so much as a flinch; this is nothing she can’t withstand, having faced far more terrible scoldings in the past. Fuyuhiko’s words hurt no less, but she doesn’t have the will to speak up and refute them and for a split moment, she reconsiders speaking up at all. Wasn’t she going against his word by bringing forth arguments about who she was? In a way, yes and this caused strong feelings of conflict to rise within her.

Selfishly, she does it anyway. Peko chooses to speak up and stand up to him, not for herself but for Fuyuhiko’s well being -- this is what she keeps telling herself, a lie she’s been living with for years. It’s easier to turn a blind eye to one’s feelings and their desires, when they aren’t supposed to be there to begin with; she’s fought attachment for longer than she can recall.

“For my 18th birthday, you requested to see me.” She pauses, stealing a glance at the other from over her glasses. “It was mid-day, and the Master was away with business, so you asked that we meet by the old cherry blossom tree at the back of the garden. We eventually did and, for a little while, we talked.” Fingers dipped past the neckline of her shirt, retrieving the silver necklace that was hidden underneath. A tear-shaped pendant hung from it, to which a crimson stone of a similar shape was attached. “Hesitantly, you reached out and gave this to me.”

@piercingeyes

It was late, a little too late for someone sporting a High School Uniform to be out and about, despite the safeness Stella City preached Blake was always one for trusting her instinct and something definitely didn’t sit 100% right with her here.

A solid half an hour of ‘casual stalking’ keeping her eyes fixated and her senses sharpened - the cat ears sitting neatly atop her head, though covered by a bow, certainly provided a natural advantage.

But alas, eventually she was going to get caught, and as the presumably younger girl turned around the Faunus attempted her best casual pose…Leaning against a nearby wall with her arms folded.

        “I’m guessing there’s no curfew in this City for students, huh?”

Experience has taught Peko that, in the times when she finds herself followed by curious folk, she should never directly let on when she’s picked up on their presence. It was best to carry on as if she’d noticed nothing, act inconspicuous -- is that even possible, if she roused suspicion to begin with?

Nonetheless, she carries onward for a little while longer, looking around as if inspecting the surroundings. Peko has already gone through this area of the city before, but it’s normal for her to backtrack her own steps; to return to a place several times over, if only to better acquaint with it. It isn’t before long that she whips around, eyes narrowing as she gazed towards her pursuer. She’s not a fool, but she knows better than to start anything unnecessary, “I wasn’t made aware of such a thing existing.”

“The Moon Kingdom is my home. It’s very…Well, not advanced in the technology that this place seems to have. We do everything by magic there.  Only those of the royal family have silver white hair upon taking the throne. Oh! And Ice dancing is our most popular sport. Mother rules over the entire cosmos, bar earth.”

She tapped her chin in thought, forehead scrunching as she thought of more to tell this person.

“Let’s see. what else? Our most popular item for trade is Ammioflower, for it makes a wonderful fiber when treated right. And Ruwhuanium, a metal that’s made into armor, weapons and other such things.”

With arms folded below her chest, Peko listens, ever so diligently and attentively. Considering the circumstances in which she and the rest of her classmates found themselves, any form of information could be of use -- she knows this well enough, and opts to play on the safe side. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer is a saying she’s learned to live by, after all.

“I see,” it seems almost as if her words trail off, brows furrowing slightly as a thoughtful look befalls her. “This Moon Kingdom that you come from sounds like an interesting place,” she muses aloud whilst processing the information that’s been offered. A lot of details feel foreign to her, but Peko doesn’t sit to think much about them and treats them as factual statements. On a second thought, there is one thing that sounds remotely familiar, so she uses it as leverage to further the conversation.

In theory, going about your day shouldn’t be a stressful thing, specially when it’s just routine. As requested by her boss Yang’s supposed to get this new drink shipment with a new partner. And everything would be just fine if said partner hadn’t literally yanked her arm off when she was about to sign the receipts.

It has been only a few months since she started adjusting to this bionic prosthetic and dealing with how odd it may feel at times, getting self conscious is definitely not enjoyable. So going through this rather unexpected experience is…

Oh, the sheep ran off. Seems like there’s no time to waste in shock.

“Hey, stop that sheep! Don’t let it escape!” she’s not yelling at anyone in particular, but try running with just one arm to see if it’s doable. Spoiler alert: It is not. “Stop it! That’s my arm!”

@piercingeyes

There are things that people have seen in their lives which can fall under various categories; some are morbid, others are simply hilarious and others are downright strange. So then, how exactly does one judge seeing a sheep running around while holding a prosthetic arm in its mouth? Most dubious, indeed. It’s clearly not something that one would see everyday and while Peko would normally step aside and choose to ignore the things that don’t concern her, the opposite happens now.

Spurred on by the yells of the person who, she assumes, has been the one to be robbed of their arm, Peko steps into action and attempts to block the path of the sheep by stretching out her arms. Room would still remain for it to pass by, but there’s a little something which has the animal stop in its tracks and that is Peko’s aura; regretfully, not even the lovely sheep of Stella City are immune to it, as shown by the sheep in mention that draws to an abrupt halt and looks most terrified.

“It’s alright, don’t be scared,” she reassures, partly feeling silly for speaking to an animal. Light color dusts her cheeks, much as it always would whenever it comes to any fluffy animal; although petting the sheep isn’t what she’s there to do, the reaction surfaces naturally. Each step taken towards the animal has it backing up, at least until it turns around and starts to run in the opposite direction. It might be closing in on the person that it robbed, but that doesn’t keep Peko from giving chase as well.

It’s all just… So wrong.

It was wrong, when they arrived on Jabberwock Island. It was wrong, when a Killing Game was announced. It was wrong, when the first murder took place. It was wrong, when Peko had to pay up for Fuyuhiko’s stupid fucking decision. It was wrong, that she had to die.

And it was wrong, to see her now again.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. Because, he’d known- he’d seen the execution, where she died. And even in a place as messed up, fucked up as this, the dead don’t- shouldn’t come back to live.

Even if he wanted it to, so much. But that’s just not how things work, and it’s unnatural to have them work any other way.

To summarise, to see this, and try to process this; he was still busy doing so, and he wasn’t doing a very good job at it. Because no part of him, no matter how much he wanted to (”Peko, I’m so happy you’re okay, so happy you’re alive!”), was able to believe that this was Peko, because dead people can’t come back to life and there’s no way that she’d somehow escaped and survived that complete and utter onslaught of an execution. It had been an execution, after all. He’d seen another after that, they weren’t things that could be survived, he was sure of that.

So to see and hear Peko Pekoyama, alive, in front of him, he couldn’t accept it.

“Hey… The fuck are you talking about?”

Inconveniences? Fuck off with that shit! He could never see anything about Peko as an inconvenience- but how affronted he was that someone dared to pretend she was alive, to pretend to be her.

“I saw you die- we saw Peko die. We all know she died! So don’t try to fuck with me, or Peko, by pretending to be her! Because- the dead don’t come back to life, not even in a fucked up place like this.”

Apologise, not to him, but to Peko!

“The dead… They- they don’t fucking come back. They… Don’t.”

They don’t…

His words cut right through her.

They shake Peko up to the very core and, in spite of the humble position in which she’s presented herself in front of Fuyuhiko, much as she considered it was rightfully deserved of someone like her, hands form into fists. They furl and unfurl a couple of times until palms press flat to the ground and she lifts herself up a slight.

Peko doesn’t yet dare to look to him, so she looks at the ground instead. Teeth graze over the skin of her bottom lip, feeling it quiver; she’s filled with uncertainty, never having truly known how to handle the times when he’d be angry at her. Such moments were a rarity, but the few occurrences were sufficient to convince her to never do or cross him wrong. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, in spite of the kindness held deep within his heart, was a force to be recognized -- stand-alone, separate from the association with the Kuzuryuu clan.

How is she meant to face his wrath? Moreover, how is Peko supposed to take a situation where she’s doubted? The reaction she gets it’s misplaced, it’s justified; she did die, this much she remembers. Still, this is her and not another person, even if the idea of a dead person coming back to life seems impossible. Time can’t be turned back, the harm done can’t be undone -- she knows this well by now, the eyepatch that Fuyuhiko wears serving as a cruel reminder even when she doesn’t get to look him in the eye.

Instinct tells Peko to retreat and give Fuyuhiko space, yet doing that is a deal-breaker. There’s a consequence to such a choice, one that she isn’t ready to deal with; she’ll never be. Running away means turning her back to the only thing she’s ever known, to the one person that offered her a reason to live; he became said reason. 

Out-ruling any other possibility, Peko figures she can’t give up and accept to be banished like this. Undeniably, she wants to stay by his side -- there is nowhere else she would rather be, there’s no other place that she feels like she could belong to, in the way that she does when she’s by Fuyuhiko’s side. So, she draws back and shifts to a kneeling position, gaze remaining cast downward.

Venus Patrol had opened only moments ago, so Hajime was still in the process of getting his bar ready for tonight. Some sheep and non-sheep had decided to come to the nightclub as early as possible, but the current amount of guests was nothing compared to the masses that would be filling up every square centimeter after midnight. Hajime was checking up on the ice he had prepared as a familiar voice reached his ears.

Not looking up from the bucket of ice he had been inspecting just yet, Hajime let the meaning of hearing her voice sink in. Thinking he must have mistaken her voice for someone else’s he slowly looked up, but nothing could have prepared him for what – or rather, who – he saw then.

“…………Huh?”

Hajime’s brain short circuited. He had seen strange and horrible things, nothing a normal young adult should ever have to witness, and yet this was something he couldn’t fathom. Feeling unwell, Hajime leaned on the bar to steady himself. Cold sweat ran down his back as he failed to make sense of the situation. This was…

“Impossible. This can’t be real. Why… You were…….” DEAD.

To say that Peko has been expecting such a reaction is an understatement. This is only the beginning and, considering how events unfolded when she met Fuyuhiko, she’s come to expect things to get rather bad. It’s the default, because the dead don’t just come back to life. Nobody would believe otherwise, no matter what, so she remains an anomaly without an explanation.

The smile fades from her lips as a barely audible sigh escapes her. “I know,” she says simply, flatly. “But I am here and I have no explanation behind it,” behind waking up in a place that was foreign to her. On second thought, there’s also no explanation for why the other two are here. Are there other classmates of theirs around as well? It’s something she could ask later, after this scene comes to an end.

“It’s always relaxing to care for your blade, isn’t it?” the girl leans forward, a nonchalant smile. “I was just wondering if I’d met a fellow aficionado, especially if it’s such a cute girl! Though, I’m partial to the smaller ones, myself… Much easier to conceal, ehe~♪”

Totoko’s got no shame, and is talking about weapons in a manner she might talk about fluffy kittens or makeup. As expected of an idol. She doesn’t even seem to mind the other’s straight forward attitude.

People say not to judge a book by its cover and Peko supposes there’s truth to the saying. She certainly wouldn’t have passed someone like the other as being a person to take interest in weapons, let alone carry them on her. Perhaps, now it was her turn to be intrigued; it isn’t every other day that she comes across someone that talks about such a topic with relative ease.

“I suppose, although it quickly becomes part of the routine,” this applied to her, at least, only because Peko had other ways in which she relaxed. For the normal person, however, those activities would be anything but relaxing.

The compliment takes Peko by surprise. It was rare for her to hear such words be directed at her, but she tried not to think much about it -- subtly clears her throat, then proceeds to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose to fix them into place. 

“Any blade can be of use, if known when and how to be used. Although I admit that smaller ones have their advantages, seeing that it’s easier to maneuver them,” she ponders on things for a moment. “Is there a reason why you carry a weapon on you?”

     ( @piercingeyes )

sayaka pauses her search for a better flower, looking over the lily in her hand. something different to decorate her room, because, well, maybe this was too on-the-nose. as she steps back, something hits her ( or she hits something ) and sayaka turns around… to find herself in the midst of a woman. eyes a bright red, almost like someone she used to despise. for a short moment, she’s staring silently. 

“oh !” and she steps away from the display, flower falling from her grasp, “i’m sorry ! i wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings .” 

It’s rare for Peko to be out of focus, caught up in her own thoughts enough to become unaware of her surroundings; she is generally alert, hyper-aware of what happens around her. Even then, some things simply cannot be prevented and the blame doesn’t necessarily rely on her end or that of the other person.

Simply put: mistakes happen, they are bound to occur at one point or another. This is one such moment, one where another collides into her. Peko halts at the immediate contact, then draws back by a step just to put some space in between the two of them. The other pair of eyes holds her own and, in those moments, there is something she notices in them -- a most curious sense of familiarity, paired up with confusion.

“It’s alright,” her head inclines a slight, “We both seem to have been distracted.”

@piercingeyes liked for a starter

Yue really didn’t care for sunny days. Mostly because the sun was a direct opposite to his natural lunar influence. Plus the heat and brightness of it all just didn’t agree with him. Always made him a little dizzy if he was out too long.

Which was how he found himself in this situation. Leaning back against a tree with his eyes closed, trying to keep himself in its shade to keep himself cool. It wasn’t really working, but he didn’t have much energy to move back to his assigned hotel room. His wings flapped lightly behind him, creating a small breeze.

Frankly, the heat made him almost miss Keroberos. Not that he would ever admit that. And if he were honest, he would say he missed his little Mistress’s older brother more than his own. But he wasn’t honest and was adamantly refusing to admit that he missed either Keroberos or Toya Kinomoto.

Hearing someone step closer, he opened one eye part way and stilled his wings. “Can I help you with something?”

If she’s to approach another, Peko usually does so with good intentions. The circumstances where that differs are usually paired up with rightful reasoning and they are starkly different than one’s day-to-day encounters.

It wasn’t often that such an occurrence happened, albeit that seems that with more recent changes, she has been put in a multitude of situations where interaction was required. This isn’t to say that she has an aversion to it, quite the contrary. After all, she is the one to approach the male, having the intention of passing on an item which she’d gotten for herself.

The heat wasn’t friendly and, much like her, many people struggled because of it. Not even the local sheep were spared from the overly warm weather; one could rightfully say that it was harder for them, considering their thick, wooly coats.