#spiriteddefense

Finally, after all the things Celty had been (trying to) figure out so far, there was one thing that remained unsolved still...

Where was Shooter?

When it came to the Coíste Bodhar, he was her servant spirit, that much she remembered. She also remembered that she could dismiss him whenever she felt it necessary, so he would not attract any unnecessary attention.

However... By losing her head, she’d forgotten where Shooter went when she dismissed him, and thus had an uncertainty on how to summon him back, or if she even could. So she wouldn’t dismiss him. Something in her had always stopped her from doing so; doubt, for sure, but also the fact she didn’t want to lose Shooter. Servant spirit he may be, but he was hers and they got along very well, so she would loathe to see him disappear.

As such... She would never have dismissed him, even upon arriving in Stella City, nor by accident. And he was her servant spirit, so he wouldn’t just go and leave her, assuming the distance between where she was at first and where she is now would be great. Therefore... He must be here, somewhere. She just hadn’t found him yet, as all her senses and connections had been weakened; she couldn’t use her shadows, nor did she have any feeling of or connection with her head.

She had just hoped he had taken the form of a headless horse once again, as she walked the streets, silently calling out “Shooter!” in her thoughts. So far, no one had responded to her question, so she had been losing all hope even as she held up her PDA to another girl passing by, hoping that this time, there was some information to be gained.

Nice pushed his empty plate away across the table with a satisfied sigh. There was nothing like a good, well-cooked meal to feed the soul, and there was no damn way that he would be able to make one for himself. Nothing anywhere near this tasty, anyway. Finding a restaurant to eat at had turned out to be a good idea.

Reaching into his vest pocket, he pulled the check towards himself. Humming a little tune to himself, he opened the folder to reveal the price of his delicious lunch.

He stopped humming.

He pulled his hand out of his pocket, looking down at the pitiful amount of currency in his hand. He dug around in his other vest pocket, and came up empty. Pants pockets: nothing. Back pockets: desolate. Shoes: only his feet. Obviously.

Nice frowned down at the various coins sitting on the table. It was clearly not enough to pay for it; you could tell at a glance.

But just then, the waitress approached his table, and it was too late to try to arrange them so it was more ambiguous or to make an escape or something. He looked up kind of sheepishly–wow, nice one–and scratched his cheek a bit.

  If there’s something he’s missed since being tossed into an unfamiliar place, it’s definitely his flirting log. A years old journal, one he’s shown to Japan only once (and promptly got it clapped around his face), that holds all of his attempts as well as photos of the girls he’s used his charm on.

  A moment of consideration is given towards his current situation; Germany isn’t here to drag him by the collar back to work. Feliciano’s expression brightens immediately at the idea of absolute freedom.

@spiriteddefense liked for a starter!

     Ah, what could be better than food? Nina could not think of even one (1) thing she’d rather have that a big and tasty meal. It just wasn’t a thing. A girl’s happiness, she had concluded in her few years of living, is most definitely to stuff their mouth with food.

     Hungry and ready to get the biggest, tastier meal she could get with the money she had, Nina entered a random place that said sold hamburgers. Whatever a hamburger could be it was cheap and sounded tasty, so Nina was all about it.

@spiriteddefense

Hajime felt good about the process he had making regarding his bartending skills. He could make any of the classic cocktails with his eyes closed, had come up with his signature drink which was his own take on Tequila Sunrise and had become better at giving his guests a good time. 

Tonight was a fairly easy-going night at Venuz Patrol with few guests on the dance floor and even fewer taking place at Hajime’s bar. It was nights like these Hajime liked best, for it gave him a chance to try and connect with those who had come to Venuz Patrol and polish up his bartending skills even more. 

Having sent off another pair of friends with drinks of their choice, Hajime quickly wiped the top of the bar clean and got ready to welcome his next guest. Almost immediately after he had put his towel away a young woman took a seat at the bar. He greeted her with a smile and a nod.

“ Hi there! Are you a resident of this place, too..?”

<< And just WHY are you asking the obvious? >>

“I-Ignore her... Aiolos doesn’t know how to play nice..”

Drop a kitten on my muse.

Another kitten...

The five that kept licking everything were fine, but this one seemed to be a bit noisier than the rest. Being pawed at by the sixth kitten, Shinjuurou finally decided to get up and scratch it behind its ear. It soon became content and rested itself on Shinjuurou’s lap.