#simon 01

When she came inland it was almost always in search of two things; new food, or objects of interested. Sometimes they were the same thing, though the latter was usually treasures. An art festival seemed like the perfect place, she did so enjoy collecting precious things. All the better if they were unique or valuable.

And treasures she had acquired, mostly things that could survive under the waves. In record time no less, so while she was here she had decided to dabble herself, she did miss creating things. The kraken sat before an easel, the second such she had set up, as inspiration seemed to present itself quite a serendipitous manner. 

“Oh, hello there.”

Crap. She’s almost busted this time, and she knows it. Her attempt to get a feel for this city isn’t going as planned; she tried to steal from what looked to be an easy target... until his dog spotted her.

So now she’s running through the streets, hoping she doesn’t get caught, and she almost runs smack-dab into the person in front of her.

‘Wow, this guy’s really tall!’ she thinks. ‘...and in a really convenient place.’

“Here,” she says, handing the stolen wallet up to him. “This is for you.”

She prepares to make a getaway, glancing behind her.

Take a day off work, go to therapy, that was the advice he’d been given. It’ll work, they said, it’ll help manage the depression and trauma built up in the last few months. It may have been the chilling weather bothering old injuries in his arms and shoulders caused his visible irritation. It could have been his ever present mental health declining that caused his frustration. Aizawa knew it was rational to get help managing this but it didn’t mean he had to like it.

Strangers. He hated putting his personal problems out for strangers to see. His frustration evident when he sat down in a chair, shoulders hunched and arms crossed in front of maybe 6 or 8 strangers. This included their therapist, suggesting group therapy would help ease everyone into a comfort zone.

Very surprising to find Italian cuisine in this place, even with the cream sodas that was much too sweet for his tastes, but he could tell it was one such recipe. It was still nice to see such things. Kind of nostalgia he never allowed himself to dwell in back when he was... Risotto blinked, staring at the pale blue sky briefly again before the sudden tap-tap-tap of someone rushing by caught his attention. He didn’t hesitate when his arm flung out and grabbed the stranger by the shoulder, in their hand a wallet. Thievery, he knew it when he saw it.

It had only been roughly 24 hours, he’d been greeted by quite a few people. As far as criminal activity went, Chrollo needed to find his footing in a new city completely off the map, almost as nonexistent as Meteor city. This was Spirale, unoriginally: City of Spirals.

The Troupe leader found himself sitting in a tree that had long lost it’s leaves to winter. He smiled to himself thinking on what he could do here while he waited for his family. Would they show up? Would they find him? So many uncertainties, it felt rather exciting. Seclusion here was short lived, drawing him out of his musings, Chrollo looked down from his perch when he heard someone pass by. This one is familiar. One of few he had met before here in Spirale. Which ward was it again? Doesn’t matter.

Punished for his ever hungry hubris. His eyes are apparently bigger than his appetite, well... That’s not right for one, it’s his recent discovery that sweet things in excessive amounts left him with the worst stomach ache and over all feeling. Eat it in moderation. Of course he’s regretting his actions of taking three cinnamon rolls from work, and they’re not small by any means. One for him. One for Kite. One... Now he has a third one to unload. A stranger would do, really. 

Well up until he saw someone vaguely familiar. Mika blinked, not sure he remembered this guy’s name, but he knew him. He answered a question of his before! Everyone else just ignored him when he asked for clarification. So he approached, figuring giving someone he knew a free pastry was better than pestering a stranger.

Akatsuki wanted to know more about this place, and every question he asked would come up as something normal. Locals only told him about events, stores, restaurants, traditions. Talking to them felt surreal and dreamlike.

Was the ethereal feeling what they wanted in this place?

Aching in his gut–he ate recently, packed away some simple proteins in his pockets if he needed them later. Homesickness, then. Leaning on a wall he closes his eyes and breathes. The night sky glitters between clouds. He has to head deeper in, talk to more unusual people who had come here the same way he did, to figure anything out.

As the moon was covered, his peripheral vision catches something else glowing down the alleyway.

Strange. Helmet. Red blinking. Blue blinking. Pitch black. Hard to decipher form–humanoid with electronics attached? A loose experiment. Investigate. With movements of his arms, Akatsuki forms a disc of electricity; 1 reflector as a precaution and to provide momentary light.

This one was interesting.

It wasn’t often that Mantis felt curiosity’s pull when he stumbled upon the more bizarre denizens of this place, for good reason-- he was plenty well-versed in the abnormal considering he himself was something of an abnormality. 

But this thing with its two glowing red eyes boring into him? Though the suit itself took a humanoid shape and bore resemblance to diver’s gear, that there was no perceptible face called into question its status as human or robot. It looked familiar, though, in an abstract sense; Mantis knew he had never encountered this before, but it sure as hell called to mind his beloved B&B Unit. He nearly chuckled at the thought.

Whatever it was, it seemed equally interested in Mantis. While not a gesture he usually extended to the general public, Mantis met that piercing gaze thoughtfully behind orange lenses, tilting his own masked face in subtle acknowledgement.