#qwewe

Saph, the leftmost lady with the hat, has hollywood-style retrograde amnesia and remembers nothing of her old identity, including what she is and why she doesn’t bleed or can’t seem to be killed. she starts out with 2 clues tho: she cant understand modern slang and there’s a neat scar on her forehead that might have something to do with her memory loss. early on the (re)discovers that she really likes jewelry decorated with blue gemstones, and the sapphire becomes her namesake (or so arkey says).

Her age is unknown but she’s physically in her twenties. Her current goal is to piece her old identity back and figure out why she’s “immortal”. She likes video games, (particularly adventure games and visual novels, but she’s hesitant to get into any kinds of MMO’s), jewelry, and big soft beds with thick blankets. Her hair has blue highlights because Arkey said it would look good and match her name. She’s also talented at parkour and makes an excellent marksman, but often runs into trouble figuring out complicated modern firearms.

The one in the middle is called Ashe McNeil in the paperwork but if you’re anyone important you’ll get around to calling her Arkey. she’s a vampire about two centuries old (which she thinks of as three lifetimes) and while she’s posing as a college student, she’s also the current head of the Arcadia, a kind of online social help network for nonhumans and humans involved with the non-mundane parts of the world. saph goes straight to her for help and ashe is friendly so she lets saph stick around. they become Best Friends

*the Arcadia has a less dramatic name online, but that’s what it was called a hundred or so years ago when it was just a society of do-gooders helping non-mundane creatures find peaceful places to live away from humans. since then, humans have accepted them as a part of reality, but it’s not like they like when their houses are haunted by malevolent ghosts and such so there’s some stigma 

Her age is vague but she’s physically 22 forever. Her current goal isn’t something she really actively pursues, but she’s trying to find a lightning/storm god and strike a deal so that she has enough electricity powers to use the capacitive touchscreens on things like smartphones and tablets (they dont react to undead skin). She likes all kinds of fashion (including makeup), perfumes and colognes, informal social gatherings, heights, and enjoys vampire fiction. Ashe McNeil is, of course, one of multiple names she uses for herself.  Unlike the other two she’s bad with guns and action but being a vampire means she punches the hardest and can probably throw small cars or something.

The last one at the right is Faye Zafjer (za-fier, stress on the second syllable, the fj is like in ‘fjord’) and she’s the current leader of the Zafjer society (what a name right), a society that is empowered by and follows the leading Zafjer in dealing with supernatural threats against humanity. unfortunately for her she actually inherited it like 4 years too early because her dad got eaten by a dragon he was supposed to kill, so she’s mentally and emotionally underequipped to lead a thousand year-old society of magicians. on the plus side, senior members help her out and all the money is hers (and there’s a lot of money)

There aren’t quite so many technicalities in play for her to consider it worth much study, but it’s plenty expressive. Today, their canvas is the pristine white wall at the back of a lonely, Ohara-owned storehouse that sits atop a hill. Riko tells herself it’s a bit of a shame despite knowing in her heart that a paint job like that was just asking for it. She doesn’t blame herself, either--Tokyo made her that way--but she sees that Yō is at least thoughtful about it, using the white to help frame her work in an arc of soft, stretching clouds. 

The clouds happen to be Riko’s personal favorite part of the piece. Sure, using the environment cleverly is a trademark of the medium, but a style more like a painting than your usual piece of graffiti gets across how Numazu raises its artists so differently from a metropolis like the one Riko came from.

Or maybe it’s just Yō. Riko knows from looking at sketches that Yō’s style is characterized by strong, sharp edges where edges are needed and colors in soft, almost watery blends. Here, it’s the classic color scheme of vibrant orange on calm, cool blue--a symbol of the terrible tandem that is Chika and Yō, though only they and Riko would catch that--and for the point of focus, the English word “SUNRISE” is emblazoned across the spray-paint sky in wide, crisp, heavily stylized letters.

Definitely not quite something for study, but she gets engrossed in it all the same.

Yō approaches the sun that Riko had just finished and gestures at it with the open hand and puffed chest of pride. “What did I say? Perfect. Gradients. I could never pull off a yellow-to-orange like that.”

“Thank you,” Riko says, smiling under her mask. “I’m glad practice paid off. If only Chika-chan could see it, though.”

“I’ve gotcha covered.” Yō pulls her phone out and takes some quick shots of the piece. One to the left, to the right, front and center. “Nice, it’s really early, but the actual sunrise is doing a pretty good job lighting this up for me. Now I can gloat.”

Sunrise. Riko pulls her sleeve back and checks her watch. “6:20? Yō-chan, we should start heading back soon, before we get caught.”

“Serious? Okay, okay, one last thing,” Yō tucks her phone back into the pocket of her hoodie and points in the center of their sun. “Can you stand over there?”

Riko complies easily, but not without giving Yō a curious look. “You can’t take a picture of me with this, you know.”

“I know, geez, what do you think I am, new?”

“Honestly, you come off that way sometimes.”

“Shuuuush, listen to me.” Yō walks to Riko’s side and points in a direction generally forward. “See, check out the view here, right? The sun’s not right in your face but it’s still in front of you and not as harsh, and you can see all these trees and the ocean... and the weather’s perfect, just as predicted.”

“Yeah... yeah I’m seeing it,” Riko says, her voice trailing off as her eyes follow Yō’s description. “Well, Yō-chan, you’ve got a knack for strategic positioning, that’s for sure.”

There’s a soft thudding noise next to her head, and when Riko blinks and opens her eyes she’s just plain caught between Yō and the wall they just spray-painted. Her stupid heartbeat picks up and warmth climbs up her neck to her face, which is, unlike Yō’s, lit by soft sunlight, especially after Yō pulls her mask down and lets her hand linger. For a drawn moment neither of them seem to know what to do.

“Y-Yeah,” Yō finally says, wearing a nervous little smile. “Guess I do have a knack for it.”

As would only be appropriate by now, Yō leans in slowly, giving Riko ample time to move away or voice any disapproval, but Riko stays silent until their lips quietly connect. Kissing Yō feels a little like how her piece looks--warmth from her lips and the sun and a little chill from the wall and morning air, and it’s all together and pleasant and again it’s entrancing. Riko’s heart still drums too quickly to keep track of, so maybe several dozen heartbearts pass before Yō pulls away.

But not nearly enough.

“S-S-S-Sorry,” Yō mutters, staring at the ground, “if that was sudden, or anything. But uh, it was just us, and it seemed like such a good moment--”

“And you’re blowing it.”

Now Yō looks up. Her eyes are blue and catch just a little of the sun in them. “What?”

Riko frowns and grabs the collar of Yō’s hood. “You were doing fine and it was a good moment. Don’t get scared and end it like this. Again.”

"Again?” Yō said. “But didn’t you say we should leave or we’d risk getting caught?”

“Yō-chan, risk is kind of what we do. So?”

For moment Yō is speechless, but soon she nods. Riko pulls her in and the second time is far more than the piece could ever be.

They end up smudging Riko’s perfect gradient, but neither really care.