O, brave Astoran knight!

This guy was way too composed for Adachi’s liking.

“Sir…? Heh,” The detective mumbled to himself, smiling a little to Solaire’s mannerisms. The thought of being called that pleased him ever so slightly.

“How about you accompany me on my duties for a few days? I’m sure some community hours would grant you a good enough pardon,” He suggested, wondering just how amusing it would be to put this fool to work. Though, in the back of his mind, it wouldn’t be so bad to have some company other than these zombie assholes.

“So, whaddya say…” He paused, trying his absolute best not to bust out laughing.

Solaire blinked slowly; once, twice. It took him but a moment for his expression to smoothly slide back into the comfortable joy he so often wore on his features, hands clasped together. “That would be no trouble at all! Why, I dare say I’d even enjoy being of some help.” A chuckle slipped out along with the words. “I say yes, partner.”

Adachi should’ve figured, by his human-like appearance, but the armor sort of threw him off.

“Oh, forgive me, at first you seemed like one of these demons running around,” The detective smiled, walking up closer to the bars of Solaire’s cell. His fingers gripped around one of the steel bars, then leaning in for a closer look of his detainee.

“My name? My name is Tohru Adachi, detective. Well, I was a detective, now I just work with this zombie police task force… At least, for now,” Adachi introduced himself, taking another swig of his coffee. So he seems to think this is all a misunderstanding huh? The man claims it was in good intent… But the smart thing to do would be to just let him stay the night, as was procedure.

Unless…

“You are right, indeed. Perhaps the only one in these lands, if mine own eyes are to be trusted.” An odd thing, to come from lands where knighthood was a given and be thrust into this place that seemed devoid of them entirely! His arms folded over one another, an unusually closed off posture for the knight, humming thoughtfully at Adachi’s offer. He had little reason to doubt this man-- he’d been naught but pleasant, after all.

“And what would these terms be, Tohru?” Perhaps a bit too bold. “... Apologies- sir Adachi.” He corrected himself with a sheepish smile, bright as ever even with his mistake pulling at the edges of it.

Whenever those damned fools lock someone up, its for the stupidest reasons. Once, they threw in a Mothman because it scared them, for whatever reason. They’re zombies. How the hell is this unit supposed to  function if they’re terrified of Mothmen?!

It was a good thing Adachi was able to pick up on their body language, the zombies’ moans and grunts were starting to sound more like yes’s and no’s the more he worked with them. He couldn’t really explain why, but they seemed to form some kind of attachment to the ex-cop when he joined their force, almost similar to that of the shadows back in the Midnight Channel - but he was probably just imagining things to the point of reminiscence.

“Pipe down, Mister, I’ll take a look at your report in a second…” Adachi responded to the oddly-dressed detainee, ignoring his plea for assistance. What was this guy from the middle ages? There has been weirder stuff, but this was still pretty odd. One of the zombies handed him their shabbily scrawled report, which was still a pain in the ass to read.

“Huh… Vandalism? Says here you… wrote odd, disturbing figures on the floor of the lodge,” Oh great. Some asshole who thought doodling dicks everywhere was hilarious. Could anyone act like a mature adult nowadays?

“Sir… Can you explain yourself? Why were you drawing disturbing images all over the lodge?” Adachi set the report down and picked up his coffee, taking a small sip as he leaned over the desk in front of the strange man’s cell. He squinted tiredly over his coffee mug.

Because how could it be wrong! The knight bore naught but good intentions with what he’d done. Did they think he’d intended to invade, rather than assist? Still, that was hardly something worthy of... “Disturbing... Ah!” His eyebrows shot up at the realization. “I believe they may have... misinterpreted my summoning sign.” He trailed off, one hand at his chin to tap a finger against his lips. “Are they not customary for this world?”

“They are for those in need in worlds similar to our own. They call upon whomever have made them, you see.” How strange a thought. That something so intrinsic to him could be misunderstood so easily, even thought to have malicious intentions!

Never the less, it was no reason not to retain some semblance of manners towards this man that-- he was fairly sure-- was trying to help him straighten out this misunderstanding. An easy smile spread over his lips, “I am Solaire of Astora, ser. Called here for what I must presume is the same purpose as you.”

@fracturedresilience

“Pardon me, ser– how in the world did you do that?” Solaire’s voice is as awfully chipper as always, calm and yet with an easy happiness radiating from every word he spoke. The ser in question was a somewhat peculiarly dressed fellow– to the knight, at least– whose hands seemed to light up and positively glow with some form of strange power.

The feeling of burns crawling across his hand came with a familiar pain, one that didn’t bring a wince or flinch due to how often he had felt it. With a bit of friction, a flame flickered between his thumb and finger, giving some warmth and light, and giving the end of the cigarette a hot glow. A whisper of smoke drifted from the lit end. More smoke was pulled into his lungs with an inhale, bringing with it a dry burn and heat that helped to dull the edges of his nerves…

Someone was there. He hadn’t heard them approach—too caught up in having a damn smoke—didn’t even register what they had said. To busy waiting for a lead pipe to the cranium, or the burn of a bullet, or anything else he’d come to expect from splicers. The best he could do was pull his arms up in defense while smoke sputtered from his lips. Didn’t even notice the cigarette fall into the snow at his feet, kicked aside as he stepped away and faced—

a knight?

… Well, perhaps that first one wasn’t entirely true, the sword hanging at his waist pressing against his thigh as he shifted.

“Ah.” Not the most eloquent response. “… I must’ve startled you, but- I assure you, there is no ill intent on my part.” Slowly, he lowered his hands to gesture towards Jack’s raised ones with a kind smile– one hidden by the knight’s steel helmet– and a calmer tone to his words. “Would it be terribly selfish of me to ask you to, well, do that again? Your magic.” He requested with a slight flourish, fingers moving to mimic what the other man had done.