Fandom Persona: First Awakening

[GotClanked]

You were transported like the others to a dreamlike dimension where you were all sat in a room. This had happened when you were asleep or something. You are trying to process what just happened when a woman enters the room holding a clipboard. She is focused on checking off a list, a list. What is happening?

“Justice, check.”
“Hanged Man, check.”
“Moon, check.”
“Death, check.”
"Chariot, check."
"The High Priestess, check."
"The Empress, check."
"The fool, check."
"The Devil, Check."
"The Tower, check.:

The woman smiled, seeing as they would be getting the full order of Persona Users today. This specially made her happy, since her master would be pleased. The woman looked up at you and the others from her clipboard. She gave a warm smile.

“Sorry for the sudden pull,” the woman apologized, “but my master wishes to speak with you urgently.” She then gestured to the strange man sitting behind a desk who had his hands resting on the desk.

“Ah, it is about time we met face to face,” the man said and grinned, “allow me to introduce myself, I am Igor, servant of Philemon. This is my assistant Ruth.” Ruth waved to you and the others.

“Now, you are probably wondering where you are, you are in the Velvet Room,” Igor explained, “the place that exists between dreams and reality.” He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts and for others to process what he was saying. Ruth brought out refreshments to you and the others

“Oh, they are not staying for long Ruth,” Igor chuckled, “they haven’t even awakened their Persona’s yet.” He was saying the word Persona casually like you knew what it meant.

Igor then looked at everyone, “Where are my manners, I did not even explain what a Persona is. A Persona is a physical manifestation of your inner psyche. You will use it on your journey to fight shadows.” Igor knew the confusion that these people held. They will find out.

A paper contract appeared in front of you and the others to sign. It stated that you would be responsible for your growth and development in exchange for the opportunity to defend yourself against threats. If any of them chose to sign it, then the paper would disappear. Igor would glance at the group from time to time to see if they are done. After a while, he clasped his hands together and smiled.

“Very good, those that did not sign will be escorted back to the human world,” Igor told them, “Those that chose to stay, I have something important to tell you. Your world is in danger currently, on the verge of collapse due to dark forces at play.” He was relatively neutral about everything, despite what he was saying. Igor glanced at the clock and noticed that their time was up. The man smirked, knowing that he would see them again and was looking forward to seeing their progress. Igor was sure that they would not disappoint him or Philemon.

Ruth was bummed that they had to go already but she did notice the time. The woman heaved a sigh as she was forced to watch the Persona Users leave. They better be back here and not dead. "You all better not be shadow chow," Ruth said to them and took her leave.

“I bid you all farewell,” Igor said to them, “we will meet again when you awaken your Persona’s, for now, go back to your mortal realm and prepare for the day of Judgement.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

Angel Island was operating as normal, as people were hurrying to their jobs or school. Although, it was not going to be normal for long as a man screamed at the top of his lungs as he ran into the crowd of people. The man was grasping for breath, struggling to stand up straight as he grabbed a woman's shoulder. The man drooled, causing the woman to push him off of her and run away in fear. Eventually Davenport security forces apprehended the man. "Nothing to see here," an officer said to everyone walking by.

"Yeah right," Maki said to him, "you know that you are really bad at hiding things, right? Guess I will just need to snap a photo of you." The officer glared at her and unholstered his baton, "last warning Maki...I mean it, if you or any of your stupid group- HEY!"

Maki already snapped a photo of them and took off running. The officer chased after her as he was yelling at her to stop, of course she did not listen and kept running. Maki turned into an alleyway in an attempt to lose him and make it to a restaurant. There she could blend in with the other people and escape. Unluckily though, the officer was gaining on her and would catch up to her in a matter of seconds. Maki had to do something, right now! She quickly ran into some random restaurant and bolted into the back room to go change into waiter clothing.

 

[Fangway]

"What the..." Takashi said, waking up in a strange room, with a lot of other people he didn't recognize, introduced by a lady to some guy that was apparently her boss. This whole situation was weird as hell, and he should be some kind of panicky, but with all the thoughts going through his mind, the one that felt the most vivid was...

Man, that's a long nose... He got his own thoughts in order. So, this is some fever dream? Did that cake hit weird, or something?

But the whole thing about Persona sounded like nonsense. And fighting something called a Shadow?

He didn't know what the hell. But the words struck a chord on him. There was something he needed to do, and if someone is picking a fight, he better make sure they regret it.

"Give me that" He signed the contract. Whatever happens, he'll just have to live with it.

And wasn't that life in the end?

The world was in danger? Better reasons to get to work...

...And the dream is over... He didn't know how to even feel after all this.
---

"Just a little more..." Takashi said as he made sure his yakisoba looked good. Another day, another meal to make.

"So, today you don't work?"

"No, should be home early if nothing else happens" He said. Of course, "something happening" goes from a sale to him pissing off the Yakuza. But that's not a discussion he would have with his mother.

"Make sure to call"

"Got it" He said, making sure to pack up the food properly. With that done, he went to the bathroom.

Hair, ready. Earring, stylish. Uniform, about as good as I can make it look.

With all that done, he ran to the door, before pausing for a second, giving a picture near the entrance a bow.

"I am leaving, mom, see you, gramps"

---

On the road in a bike, Takashi rushed to make it in time. That motorcycle he wanted was still ways away, so he had to make do.

Seeing someone from the disciplinary comitee, so he made sure to really get the right speed... and...

SAFE.

" Kabuto!"

"Too slow"

 

[DistractionAttack]

Erina awakened with a stir, her vision deceiving her as she kept blinking and looking around. "This isn't my room and my eyes aren't tricking me." Softly she went to touch a blue wall next to her. It was cold, solid, and smooth like perfect concrete. "This is real or it's real enough to interact with." Her swimming thoughts were interrupted by a woman checking her off a list "High Priestess, Check" followed by a rather quick reply "High Priestess?...Me? Surely that was a joke." Though her retort fell on deaf ears.


Something she did understand was there are other people here Empress, Fool, Devil and Tower. Erina thought for a second about how could this be a twisted joke, until she saw Igor. His visage was quite horrifying something with no concept of humanity thinks people look like, and he even speaks with his mouth closed how dreadful. She let Igor speak his piece with no interruptions as she wanted answers to whatever game this was with her as a contestant. “Now, you are probably wondering where you are, you are in the Velvet Room, the place that exists between dreams and reality.” Along with his explanation this was clearly divine if anything, or so she thought before hearing talk of personas.

"A Persona is. A Persona is a physical manifestation of your inner psyche" Erina didn't bother to hear the rest as she sunk into her thoughts again looking around at all the others. So everyone else here is a Potential persona user. That's one mystery solved but why are we assigned arcana, "Why am I the Priestess." she muttered to herself as she finished her little introspection, well interrupted by a contract appearing in front of her. Quickly she skimmed it and signed "if this allows me to wield a persona I'm down."

Though her slight smile after signing dropped as Igor spoke once again. "Your world is in danger currently, on the verge of collapse due to dark forces at play.” She looked at Igor with the most bummed out eyes as she just basically signed a death contract. not to mention Ruth adding "you all better not become shadow chow." Erina's bummed out eyes now looked over to Ruth and said "I'm sorry what." Before waking up getting no response.

Erina shot up from sleeping position after such a crazy dream to her waking up in a rather spacious room. She felt the bed she was sleeping in, rubbing the covers between her fingers. "Figures, it's soft and warm. Then why can I vividly remember that cold sensation." She shut this weird thought out of her head, more important things were happening in her life at that moment. Exiting her room she walked to the living room where the main TV was on the news. It was about a riot happening, her face plastered on signs and on t-shirts. People talking about how her music inspired this riot the media slandering her name all of it was the same making her turn off the TV and stomp away.

This weighed heavy on her, having her public image be slandered because of some punks that felt the urge to start a movement in her so-called honor how pathetic. The real world was quite harsh and crushed many things, Her songs were meant to be an escape from that harsh reality. Sadly in a ironic twist her song brought forth her escape to the real world. Her head spun everywhich way and with these conditions. United with the people, but unable to do anything without giving up her blessed position. She walked to the kitchen quickly brewing herself some coffee, she did this to see if it sparked magic in her work. "Man this sucks I can't even help my people without being shamed and villianized."

Softly she poured it into a thermos and sipped off it, the coffee she made was rather sweet made with butterscotch flavoring. Lastly she changed into rather dark and dreary clothes, pink being the only splash of color that wasn't black. White shirt with an traditional design black jeans and a black overcoat with a hot pink underside with round sunglasses. She grabbed her purse and phone violently, clearly annoyed and strolled outside going on a walk to clear her mind from the constant strife that surrounds her everyday. This solution was temporary but it felt freeing while it happened. The wind blew for a nice breeze along with that it wasn't too sunny allowing her to enjoy her nice walk on Angel Island, while in her rather dour clothes. She typed on her phone trying to come up with lyrics while she softly sang to herself. "This isn't a tragedy, This is my reality, Be damned if I let you take, what you want from me....Nah not good." She wrote as she walked, but then deleted the lyrics thinking they weren't good enough. Seems to happen a lot to her, ever since the riots started happening she hasn't been feeling like writing music.

 

[Nellancholy]

"And that was Deeeeeeeetox Princess, with a sound as hard and venomous as they are lovely!" The nightclub MC's voice boomed over the speakers of Club Escapade, rumbling through the bones of the clubgoers. "Now put your hands UUUUUUUUP for tonight's headliner! The Bodhisattva of Bass, our Starlet in Samsara! DJ...ASURAAAAAAAA!"

The lights flicked off with a deliberately amplified CLICK, plunging the entire club into darkness for a split second. Just enough to let the anticipation build. Pink and blue neon tubes arranged in the approximate arrangement of an asura's arms lit up on the stage, outlining Mo-fang's silhouette while her features remained obscured.

"Once again, the congregation of lost souls falls into the den of delusion, beneath the shadow of the new moon..." She snarled into her microphone, playing into her act. She pushed a slider on her turntable, fading in the first channel of her repertoire, a quaking bassline that reverberated through the ground like the tremors preceding a full-blown quake.

"You have only just arrived into my limitless domain." Carefully, she looped in the erratic beat of bongos, beating like an arrhythmic heart, and a sample of sitar with the vibrato cranked up. "You have always been here, your soul imprisoned. But tonight, I offer deliverance."

Her fingers danced upon the MIDI controller before her, sending a high-strung synth melody to harmonize with the undulating sitar. "Blind in darkness as you all are, you may yet listen. Focus upon the aural mandala and glimpse enlightenment..."

Already the crowd was in motion, more or less keeping time with the beat she was laying down. The night was still young...

---

After her set, she'd managed to catch two hours of sleep. She remembered a dream when she woke up, though not what happened within it. But she had the strange feeling that she'd...seen other people within the dream. Not that she dreamt of other people. But that they were there, somehow, with her in slumber.

She slumped back in her seat in a small restaurant halfway across Angel Island, sitting opposite a man with his hat and coat still on, who was already working on his second coffee and fifth cigarette of the day. Crossing his fingers, he leaned back in his seat, mirroring her posture.

"Mr. Clayton." She muttered.

"Ms. Fang-" He answered, pronouncing the syllable like the sharp tooth of an animal. "-can I call you Ms. Fang? I hear you're lookin' for somebody, a friend of yours, maybe. And you told me you could use a little help tracking them down. So, how's about you give me some details? Anything to work with?"

Quietly, Mo-fang retrieved a photo from her pocket, sliding it across the table to Clayton. The faded color photo depicted a teenage girl with frizzy black hair and mild acne beaming at the camera, flashing her pearly teeth and a peace sign. An acoustic guitar hung off one shoulder, and on her other arm a girl that was head and shoulders shorter than her was clinging tight. The smaller girl was wearing the same clothes as the taller one, her hair black and erratic with kinks noticeable at several points from attempts to straighten it herself.

"Her." Mo-fang tapped on the taller girl's face. "She is a lost lamb gone astray. I seek to return her to her flock. The portents of the stars and moon show that her trail has led to this island of angels, and I have come to retrieve her."

"Right..." Clayton raised an eyebrow. "Any entanglements you know of? Anyone she left behind? It'd help if I knew which angle to work to start off."

"The threads of fate have not yet aligned for me to enlighten you-"

"Phew..." Clayton exhaled dramatically. He sat up and pressed his arms against the chair, making as if to get up and leave. "Well then, it looks like I can't help you. Not if ya don't-"

"Wait." Mo-fang gasped. "Fine. She owes some people...a lot of money. I'm here on behalf of her debtors." It was a lie, a bare-faced lie. But this cooperation between the two of them was all about money. And Mr. Clayton would probably take this more seriously if he knew big sums were involved.

"Is that right..." He knocked back his coffee, cigarette butt still pinched in the side of his mouth. "Ya don't look like a debt collector to me, kid. But hey, as long as my deposit's good I'll pull on some strings and see what I can get ya." He stood up for real now, palming the photo in his meaty hand. It crumpled slightly as he stuffed it into his coat pocket. "I'll call ya in a week's time, see what I can getcha."

"See that you do." Mo-fang exhaled, sinking deeper into her seat. She barely noticed the girl that scrambled in, followed by a police officer...

GotClanked

 

[Shoya]

NEMESYS​

Nemesys was admittingly confused by her sudden "activation." She looked at her surroundings, seeing the velvet room that surrounded her. Interesting. Was this some sort of training course from her creators? Was this a start up to a program? There were others around her, including a woman checking off a list.

"The Tower, check."

The tower? Maybe this was some kind of test. Was the tower the location of her next mission? She only wished things were more clear.

"Your... master?" she asks, wondering if the woman was a robot like herself. Nemesys' curiosity about the "master" was quickly answered as the long nosed man introduced himself.

It seems even this "master" serves someone else. She had never heard of a Philemon, nor had anything in her database about it. As a matter of fact, she didn't have anything in her database about any of this, from the velvet room to Igor and Ruth.

A place between dream and reality? She wasn't even aware she could dream... How strange. At the mention of personas and shadows, Nemesys was a lot more familiar. She knew these terms because it was her purpose. Eradicate shadows, and use personas as your blades! This is what she was created for. Perhaps this is all just part of the process of regaining hers.

The contract appears before her, and she signs under the belief that it was a necessary step towards eradicating shadows. She puts her serial number and model name as a signature, fitting it on the line in calculated fashion.

---

She suddenly fades to black, waking up back in reality... or activating? Either way, she took a moment to process what she dreamt. She sharpens her blades as she thinks.

Well, I was not the only one there. Finding the other contracted would be the wisest choice.

She makes up her mind and walks out of her "room" an abandoned storage closet at a power plant. Using the power from an outlet, she had managed to make it a mostly reliable home. Most of the things she needs are things she carries anyway, so if she really needed to, she could just stay somewhere else for a while. She had slowly learned about fitting into human society, though she avoided the public most of the time. However, she had a goal today. Dressed in a long sleeved black turtle neck to cover as much of her mechanical parts as she could, she wandered the streets. She even had her swords attached to her back in what seemed like a very long scroll.

If asked, she would simply say "I am a historian, see?" and point at the scroll with her gloved hands. This worked as an explanation for most people, except for the time some thugs insisted.... but we won't talk about that. She wanders the streets, looking around for any familiar faces.

|- Dialogue
|- Thoughts

 

[GotClanked]

Maki quickly grabbed some waiter clothes and attempted to disguise herself. She hid in the back with people looking at her weirdly, and she did not belong, Maki smiled at them sheepishly and grabbed a tray of drinks to blend in. She couldn't help but overhear Mo-fang talking with Clayton about a missing girl? Maki's eyes lit up at the mention of the missing girl, as that meant her suspicion of people missing was true. She was wondering if Davenport was involved, it was highly likely that they were involved. She was thinking that they were either the kidnappers or they did something. It had to be connected to Davenport in some way, the girl was the only one bold enough to think that it seemed. She glanced at Mo-Fang and the Clayton, raising an eyebrow at them.

"Hmm, missing person?" Maki said to herself, probably a little too loud for her liking. She was curious about the missing girl that they were discussing, seems like Clayton was clueless of where the girl was, or he was hiding something. Likely he was clueless about her location, even though Maki was a little shocked that a trained professional like him could not find her. Seems kind of amateurish in her opinion. She couldn't talk as she could not do any better but at least she would actually help out Mo-Fang instead of telling her that she would and not do it. Maki was there to hear the end of the conversion, until some of the employees working there would catch on that she was not a waitress.

"Hey, that girl is not a waitress," one of the workers said, "I don't think I ever saw her around here."

Maki tensed up, as she looked around for any excuse and directed her gaze at Mo-Fang, "I actually just started working here- she was the one who recommended this job to me-" Maki hoped that Mo-Fang would play into the lie and help her, although she did not owe her anything.

Nellancholy

 

[Yakov011001]

"Justice, check."

It was like a fire that flashed through every neuron in her—his—their mind. As if invoked like some sleeper agent activation code. Man, Hollywood really does make a mockery of Theya/n's professional ability, huh? They didn't dare say a word: waking up in an unfamiliar place was unfortunately not unfamiliar experience for them, and never ending well. Best to look around and find everything there is for them to take advantage of in what they didn't doubt would need to be an expedited escape. Opening their eyes, Theya/n recognized what looked to be a court room fitted in the most traditional respects: audience and jury boxes, judge and witness stands, but most interestingly the prosecution and defense tables. Rather the people that seemed to be trapped there with them. Theya/n made a mental note of how their attendants referred to them, and which table they were seated. At the prosecution: Justice (which would be them, right?), the Tower, the Moon, the Chariot, and the Empress. In the defense: the High Priestess, Death, the Hanged Man, the Fool, and the Devil. Recognizing what were most definitely codenames of some sort, Theya/n looked to connect the dots there. The major arcana: they were all ranks within that file. The distinction of the Chariot v. Osiris and the Devil v. Typhon told them that they were within the Rider-Waite interpretation of the Tarocchi as opposed to the Marseille or Geblin versions. What that could mean was beyond them, if it meant anything at all. What thread connected their seating wasn't something Theya/n was capable of putting together either, they didn't recognize a single motherfucker in the line up. Not even themselves.

Themselves? Theya/n flinched at the strange schism in their mind. Who am I right now? They could feel the simultaneous and contradictory sensation of the tightness in their chest from their binder, but also the relief of taking it off after a long day. The suffocating feeling of the makeup she had to wear at those ritzy parties she infiltrated, but also the cool passing of the air over his skin when he would finally scrub it off. What the hell is going on? Looking down at themselves, Theya/n saw that they had been bisected by some glowing blue rift, on their left side was Theya, and on the right was Theyan. Okay, so this is a dream. Nice. It was a thought that brought them down from how wound up they were. Their cold and discerning eyes brightening up into curiosity on the second pass over. Theya/n took particular notice of the two that sat closest and furthest from them: beside them, the Tower; and on the opposite end of the defense, the High Priestess.

"Whoa," Theya/n couldn't help the sound they made after looking the Tower up and down. "You're impressively put together. Guess only I could've dreamt this up." They whispered.

Recognizing things that very well could've been invisible to everyone else: the thin seams at all the joints, the mechanical action of her eyes' apertures, the near-silent whirring of whatever servos underneath. Yeah, that's a fuckin' robot.

Theya/n snapped back to reality(?) when a clipboard clattered down onto the table in front of her. A contract of some kind. Looking to their hand, they found a pen in it that definitely wasn't there before. Shrugging it off as the dream shenanigans it was, Theya/n decided to sign it. The conditions were extremely vague, and frankly, shit they were already doing. Still, it did take a moment. There was a strange comfort in being both Theya and Theyan at the same time, but that also came with the difficulty of having to use conscious thought on what would've otherwise been automatic: which hand to write with. Ultimately Theya decided on going left-handed.

“Very good, those that did not sign will be escorted back to the human world. Those that chose to stay, I have something important to tell you," Theya/n's eyes came up to meet that woefully misconfigured man at the judge's stand, cursing themselves for not paying attention to him sooner. "Your world is in danger currently, on the verge of collapse due to dark forces at play.”

"You all better not be shadow chow."

“I bid you all farewell. We will meet again when you awaken your Personas; for now, go back to your mortal realm and prepare for the day of Judgement.”

Theya/n wasn't sure what to make of it, only disappointed that the theater of her mind closed up so soon after.

---

"Right, back to work."

Theya came up from the bed she woke in and snatched up her phone from the nightstand, leaving last night's victim to rest a bit longer. Moving around to the foot of his side of the bed, she took his briefcase up into her arms. Checking her phone, she pulled up the video she'd snuck in of him at the coffee shop when he opened it up.

"0-7-9." She whispered to herself as she entered the code and popped it open.

Taking up all the files inside, she picked up her slacks from off the floor and fished out a small disk from it as well as a thumb drive. From her side of the bed, she picked up her messenger bag and retrieved two devices: a long feeder that she started pushing the files through, and a double-sided female USB coupling. She hooked her USB into the end of the coupling labeled 'receive', and in the other end labeled 'send' she hooked in the drive she pulled from the case. Clicking the side of the coupling, the small screen on it flashed on with a percentage that began to climb rapidly. Checking an app her phone for the other device, it read: scanning 12 of 62. Finally she took up what was the victim's badge: Davenport Group, Technical Research III, Dylan Le. Slapping the little disk from her slacks onto it, it lit up with a red ring that slowly began filling out blue.

Looking like a waiting game at this point, Theya decided to get some damn clothes on in preparation for her escape. Maybe Theyan should go out today, after this Theya is gonna have to lay low. They thought, starting a fight against his binder. Deciding on something a small bit more casual, Theyan scooped himself up into some skinny jeans and threw on a black button-up patterned with tiny green triangles. Kicking on his oxfords, he chucked all of last night's clothes back into his messenger bag. With an impeccable timing, the last of the paper documents went through the feeder. With a most practiced speed, everything that was touched after he woke was returned to exactly where they lie previously. Time to hit the jets. Then they were gone. Ten minutes, it was. Not even a record.

Stepping into the hotel elevator, Theyan checked his phone for the file data he scanned. Starting with the word density data, he confirmed his target. The most used word after articles and pronouns: Evoker. That certainly was what his client asked for, but rather annoyingly neither his client nor these documents helped him figure out what the hell it was. Physically at least. Maybe there was something to be found in the experiment transcripts. That's something to be done later though, he still had some time before it would be reasonable to go in for the object. At least he could confirm location data based on its special containment procedures.

"I guess that just means I find a way to kill—" Theyan trailed off in that thought when he spied something interesting out of the corner of his vision on the way out of the hotel. "—time."

The Tower. The one from his dream. Like a shroud, the hustle and bustle of the morning commute foot traffic washed over him and turned him invisible. It was on instinct that he utilized those low-energy, cog-in-the-machine mannerisms to begin tailing the Tower. He couldn't say what his motivation was other than recognizing someone he'd never met in his life, and the prospect that she could possibly recognize him too was a problem in his line of work. He only needed to stay out of sight. Not a problem.

Shoya

 

[Squad141]

It was that sensation of remembering a place you had never been before, of recalling features unknown to your past. The place itself was difficult to describe; it was the backroom of some building. No, it was bigger; something like an exhibit hall, with a tall veiling and pointed rafters, with strange patterns through the windows. He pictured exhibits, or dioramas, or pedestals. Or faces, he wondered, human faces. A sphinx, a spire, a clown, maybe. A skeletal figure raising his arms while riding a white horse.

Death.

A familiar word, but particular in the recollection. Then the motions, the curves of a signature, and the length of a pen leaving his fingers. A strange visage of a curator and his assistant. Mentions of darkness. The sound of a mirror shattering against a dark wall.

________________________

Louie opened his eyes, vague whispers of his dreams fogging up like his glasses. Adjusting them, he blinked. He had fallen asleep again while visiting his mother in hospice. Rubbing his eyes, a quick check on his watch kicked his adrenaline into gear as he stood, gave his sleeping mother a kiss on the cheek, and waved at her current carer. He imagined getting back to his apartment might have been easier if Louie's mom hadn't insisted on having separate homes since they could afford it, and while Louie wanted to be as careful with her as he could, she had been stable for quite some time. With a quick sweep through his own abode, the larger man combed his hair with a brush of water from the sink, grabbed his bag, and jogged to the elevator.

A morning on Angel Island was everything he had hoped it would be; busy, but not too busy like Chicago. An island city was an undiscovered blend of both out of towners and locals, both living and working in groups Louie had never before seen. He imagined that if the word "lo-fi" was to apply to any morning transit, it would be here.

That was where his unrequited love ended, though. As his bike ran through a few neighborhoods, his nerves began to creep up again. He had been rejected on a number of publications, publishing companies, and other industries locally and online for a few weeks now, and while he wasn't quite down on his luck, he needed something else in his life as a source of income. Luckily, he had finally been hired by Night Blossom, a publication that worked on journalism, publications, and a whole lot of other works that the lead Editor (plus other numerous titles), Cereus Bloom, personally approved. It wasn't going to be easy, but it was work. Louie figured that a good starting spot would be some shorts and photographs he had taken last month during the move to Angel Island, since stuff outside of the island might be eye-catching.

Traffic couldn't have been worse for a first day, but that's what a bigger pedestrian focus warranted, and Louie wouldn't have it any other way. He finally reached a small restaurant near the other end of the island, closer to the main office, where he was gonna have a meeting with a few other co-workers for what projects he could jump into.

 

[DistractionAttack]

Erina's mind go astray thinking about lyrics as it felt like a wall she couldn't pass. The breeze was welcoming her into a more peaceful introspective in her music. "Love is a bitter sweet thing...Once a hand to hold, Now one lost to time. Can you show me how to feel, Can you show me how to love, Only once I want to know, Only once I need to know."
Quickly after singing that verse she shook her head in disgust, still walking she furiously deleted all the lyrics she wrote. "Gone, Gone! That's not it that doesn't follow my image." she exclaimed to herself followed by a heavy sigh, and then silence.

Lost in a constant thought lyrics came and go off her notes, her criticism was harsh and almost nothing went through. No paper thin words they needed solid weight, emotion and passion. Something she didn't have at the moment, Her mind filled with concerns and worries, what her life may turn into. It was all one huge mess in her head. Soon enough it did, the empty silence had filled with noise of people as she was now in a district of Angel Island.

Not to mention the davenport detail that was distrubing her peace with their ceaseless chatter. How annoying they are but a necessary evil, although she doesn't like them. They keep the troublesome fans off of her, so that's more then enough reason to keep them around, or more or less have a good standing with them. Little did she care she tried to avoid them cause trouble always follows with them. She sucked into a restaurant and asked for a table, quickly she was able to be seated as it was a table for one. Though on the way to her table her senses were going crazy, tingling as if she was in danger and instinctively she looked around locking eyes with a white haired woman. Erina thought she looked dangerous, but never stopped being lead to her table she sat down placing her theros on the table. Erina bored she placed her head in her hand and tapped her fingers in a crescendo fashion, while she waited to be served. "Maybe some food might help me think straight or come up with something. Why did I react like that I didn't even know she was there, why did my body feel it was so important to point her out. Oh well I'm probably just hungry." She spoke to herself softly as she massaged her head.

Nellancholy

 

[Juju]

Yakov011001 Shoya

Spoiler: Dream

The velvet room was a little more lively than most, something that Naomi discovered rather quickly as the humidity pressed against her face like a kiss. Even wearing nothing but pajama shorts and a sheep hoodie seemed like too much in the dense, yet floral air. Bleary-eyed and horribly confused, she rubbed an eye and looked around for answers.

Surrounding her were leaves and bark, some stretching up high as tropical fronds blotted out the sunlight above. Flowers bloomed from carefully maintained bushes, and beside her a pomegranate tree was bowed with a ripe harvest. Beyond the greenery, veined panels of glass were stacked on top eachother, forming a circular dome high overhead. Somewhere, a songbird trilled.

It was a big greenhouse?

Mimi began to walk down the little path, her bare feet thankful that it was made of smooth, flat stones. Eventually it led to a large clearing filled with mossy pedestals, each topped with a velvet pillow and a card. She approached the pillar at the end of her path and picked up the card.

"Oh, it's The Empress!" she muttered in delight, as if greeting a friend in a grocery store. There was a bright smile on her face too, proud that she recognized the card.

As she looked up from the card, she noticed others had appeared out of the greenery, each standing at their own pillar. There was a small gazebo at the centre of the clearing, one that housed a man with a long nose and a woman carrying a clipboard. The besnouted man was perched on a pile of more velvet pillows, working at a desk that looked to be made of the same material as the overgrown pedestals.

Before she could ask people what was going on, the assistant and their host began to speak. Mimi blinked, a little confused at what everything meant, but seeing that it was just a dream, she played along with it. Persona? Alright. End of the world? Scary, but it's a dream.

"Saving the world? Do you need any more of a reason?" she questioned out loud as she signed the suspicious contract. Dream contracts weren't binding anyway. If she could be a hero in a dream, she would be! Alas, like all dreams, it ended. Sadly, it was before she could be a dream-hero, which made it all seem like a waste.

When she awoke, she forgot all about it. Being a hero was nice and all, but today was Naomi's day off, and as per usual she had the whole day planned out. First she was going to visit a local cat café to cuddle some kitties and catch up on a book she had been neglecting for a few weeks, and then in the afternoon she was going to attend an exhibition at a local museum. The theme this month was the history of divination across different cultures around the globe. Maybe that was the reason for last night's strange dream?

As she rose from her blankets, she shook the thought from her mind and didn't think much of it. First it was time to dress in her favourite outfit, the one with her Pompompurin cardigan and a bow-accented skirt. Mimi leaned closer to the bathroom mirror as she fixed the bow in her ponytail and hummed a little tune to herself.

Today was going to be a great day. The only problem was…

“Hold up, what was that about a riot?!” she leaned out of the bathroom door after hearing the morning news from the TV in the living room.

Her brother was sat on the couch, head down as he sorted through a deck of MTG cards. He didn't even hear her, let alone the news report.

Rolling her eyes, she stepped out into the living room and tuned into the report. Turns out there was some riot over a local celebrity she vaguely recognized. Mimi squinted at the footage, trying to recognize the street the riot took place at. "Hey Cecil, who's Erina Waltz?"

"A singer. She made a few songs that had controversy behind it." he said with a shrug, not even looking up "Oh, by the way can Jaime and Daniel come over tonight?"

"Of course, just clean up after yourselves." she said, frowning as she struggled to use the subway station app. When she eventually got it to load up, she was met with a disappointment. The subway that took her to the street with the cat café was closed due to the riots. Of course.

She checked the time, did some quick math, and by a chance of fate decided to walk there instead. Surely nothing dramatic or life changing would happen. After grabbing her purse and saying goodbye to her brother, Naomi made her way out.

--

The streets were unusually busy today, enough that she felt a little claustrophobic. Once again, she found herself fantasizing about the dream that she probably should have long forgotten about. Some greenery and space would be heaven right about now. She had never been in a greenhouse like that before, and now that she thought about it, maybe Angel Island had one. If she had time, perhaps she could visit it before the exhibition?

Head down, Naomi began to search up botanical gardens and greenhouses in the area. So transfixed in her mission, she didn't even notice she was heading straight for a stranger. By the time she noticed her collision course, it was too late.

"Sh-sugar!" She 'swore' out loud, face reddening. Next came the shower of apologies. "Oh, I am so, so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

 

[Nellancholy]

"Bloody hell..." One of the wait staff, a woman not much taller than Maki, cursed with a sour face. "Ya'd think our damn manager would give us a heads up about onboarding new blood."

"You know how it is with His Highness." A lanky man at the counter didn't miss a beat as he continued to tap away at the cash register. "Guy hasn't shown his face in almost two weeks now, good luck getting a hold of him. Hiring and dropping new staff on us is nothing new."

"Yeah, well, now that yer here you'd better get ya arse in gear. Go on!" The grumpy woman gave Maki a pointed glare.

"She has seen the truth of your words." Standing, Mo-fang remarked to the stranger who had reached out to her in a desperate effort to vindicate her lie. "And as she has said, perhaps you can get started by taking..." Here Mo-Fang moved to sit with the dark-haired woman who had made eye contact with her earlier. "...our order?"

Now that Maki was by their table and out of earshot of the other staff, Mo-Fang gave her a nod. "The illusion you have woven upon them will not last for long. I believe this is your opportunity to make good your egress...unless you would prefer to stay and elucidate the travails that led to me needing to lie on your behalf. And you..." She turned to Erina. "...have our stars perhaps crossed, before?"

DistractionAttack GotClanked

 

[seasonedcat]

Cannon Royce Hensley | Downtown
Cannon squinted as he opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room that smelled of popcorn and cotton candy. The sound of carnival music filled his ears as a faceless crowd cheered around the center of the tent. A tightrope hung over head, and dirt sat bellow the circular plastic table he sat at. There were other figures too, most of them dressed as clowns with masks covering their faces.

"Oh shit... I guess eating cheese before bed does give you weird dreams... or maybe this is just the lactose intolerance talking," he groaned to no one. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, looking at the strange man(creature?) in front of him.

at the title of the fool, Cannon raised his eyebrow, "How come everyone else gets a cool role, and I am just the fool? Am I cursed to be a bard in every AU?" His comments were met with silence that was either because no one else could hear him or because the joke wasn't funny... he was going to go with the first one. It was then that he noticed a familiar form, dream Naomi, and gave her a wave, "Hi Mimi, you come here often?" this, of course, was not the first time he had seen one of his friends in his dreams, and he paid it no mind.

"uh... can I speak to my lawyer about this? I may watch Law and Order, but I also can't read so..." Cannon asked the creature(man?) as he began to try and read over the paper they were asked to sign.

"Hmm... well, I guess it is a dream, so absolutely nothing possibly could go wrong or be affected by this." with a simple shrug, Cannon brought the pen down and signed the fancy paper with his messy handwriting, drawing a little clown face next to the signature. "I sure hope I didn't sign my soul away!" the rest of his jests were lost to sleep as the room faded out as the meeting ended.
--
the old headphones blare in Cannon's shitty headphones, wrapped around his even shittier phone to try and get at least one of the ears working. Some crappy rap song assaulted his ears, a music type he does not like, but it is popular, and everyone keeps telling him to listen to it. Another song he would have to pretend to like to his coworkers and 'friends'... why could they never like good songs?

Cannon's old and battered skateboard was held together with colourful duct tape(that did not meet any safety standards) after one too many years of use. Of course, Cannon didn't care much about the personal safety issues of his environment and thus was currently skating on it down the side of the road where a bike lane should have been(not that cities ever got around to actually making them).

Cannon had seen Naomi a couple of minutes ago, one of his many 'friends' he had met at work(who also happened to be his manager), and had been following her since then. His plan was to scare her, seeing that she was distracted(something pretty common for a person as busy as her)... but sadly, she had run straight into someone instead. Cannon let out a loud laugh as he pulled up beside her, stopping his skateboard and popping it up into his hands.

"haha, someone isn't paying enough attention again." He joked lightly as he smiled at her before turning his gaze to the person Naomi ran into, "You'll have to forgive her; she literally always has 400 things going on at any point in time; she is lucky she doesn't run into traffic with all that thinking." Cannon popped his earbud out, the music just loud enough to be heard even though he wasn't wearing them, not that he seemed to notice.
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