#ogata 01

There he is. The cryptid of Big Dipper. The one who isn’t himself, that is. Grimm is fairly certain he’s never seen Ogata make many attempts to interact with anyone, which is odd for someone employed at a talent agency (even if he’s just security) considering theatre folks tend to be wild. Or maybe that’s why he doesn’t? He’s interested in being annoying, either way.

Though her lips remained unmoving, conversation flowed between herself and her blade; moving her hands every so often to respond to him. The area was relatively empty, so she didn’t mind talking to him like this so openly; it usually drew a lot of attention when she did, otherwise..

However, she felt someone’s gaze on her after a while; blue eyes glancing to the man who had found a seat just a few feet away from her. She tilted her head at first, but soon smiled a little; quickly realizing that she had seen him around the city before.

[ Oh.. hey. Don’t we know you? ] the Transistor spoke up in place of Red, mirroring her thoughts with his words. [ At least, you look kind of familiar. ]

So, it’s not a dream. Doesn’t look like any of his nightmares. Memories? Why can’t anyone answer his questions? What does he care about since he was kidnapped maybe a couple hours ago? Well, he was really looking forward to Mika’s perfect soft boiled eggs this morning. The yolk’s gotta be hard by now and it really would’ve made this situation maybe a little more tolerable. 

No egg...it’s winter here, at least they changed him into his suit and--that’s really weird--...ah. That’s what’s the matter. 

Leather, salt and snow don’t mix and he hasn’t sprayed water repellent on these shoes in a while. He lifts a foot, shaking the snow off one after the other. He was gonna do that this morning. What time is it now?

“I’m sorry. I was under the impression this place was abandoned.” A very old church of some sorts. It didn’t matter was religion, Chrollo was beyond that. This was simply a place he enjoyed for the... Appeal it gave.

Her viola being gone is a painful thing. She’s been restless for a few hours since coming to this place, pacing along the living room. Eventually, that in itself is too much, and she bursts forth from the condo that feels far too small, intent on walking until she feels less angry. That comes in the sight of a cafe, vaguely familiar, and not quite the taverns she’s been lingering in. Maybe she can find mead, or at least a good cup of cider. 

So, she gives the menu a long look, finding the options to be near dizzying in their selections. In a small fit of desperation, she turns to the nearest individual. 

There’s something amusing about a woman trying to walk six dogs on leashes. They’re not all cooperative, and somehow, Wolf doesn’t seem to be completely done with her time. Despite that, half of the beasts she’s in charge of seem very, very interested in someone Wolf has never met.

So, she waves the best she can.

“If you’re carrying food, might want to pack it better.” 

          “Well, I mean ya look and smell pretty good too, I suppose,” she attempted to compliment him. Was that weird? That was probably a little bit weird. Talking to her food in public was something she needed to work on as it often led to slightly awkward situations like this.

“Now get a load of those eyes,” Pembroke started, approaching the stranger. Of course he’s drunk, but he’d never been shy about walking up to shady strangers before. Acutely aware the other was armed, so was he but without projectile. He’d be fine looking for someone to pester until he passed out, either with the dog prowling the streets or the alcohol finally got to him.