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Active [Thistmal Town] We're Where???

Etymarchen

Marchenliebe
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
So.


Where was Lacie?


The girl randomly popped out of a portal and into a random town square somewhere in this small town.

"Hello." She walked up to a random villager, waving a hand. "Where might Lacie be right now?"

"Lacie?" The villager being questioned appeared confused. "Who's Lacie?"

"Lacie is Lacie."

"But...who is...Lacie?"

"Lacie. The girl speaking with a random passerby that is carrying a parasol and has black hair and a blue dress and --"

"Wait, are you just referring to yourself --?"

"Indeed. Lacie is Lacie. Where is Lacie right now?"

"...Uhh...Thistmal Town...?"

"This small town? What is its name?"

"Thistmal Town."

"No, no. Lacie is asking -- what is this small town's name?"

"Thistmal Town's name...is Thistmal Town...? You just said it just n--"

"This is too hard. Lacie gives up."

Blinking with confusion, the villager would watch as the girl would walk away, muttering something on her being weird. Not that it was too strange -- her titles had already plainly written her as such, and the many multiple bunnies following her around were probably already enough to make her stand out as is.


Anyways.

Bump.

A bunny walked into somebody.

Who might that somebody be...?!?!?

THE ONE.

THE ONLY....
 
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John.

Yes, that John—the plain, unassuming guy dressed in simple brown farmer’s attire, whose greatest ambition was to live a quiet life far from danger and drama. And yet, for reasons he could never quite grasp, trouble seemed to follow him like an unshakable shadow.

Today's troubles were no exception.

John had been wandering the unfamiliar streets of Thistmal Town, enjoying a rare moment of peace as he took in the new sights. For once, he hoped his walk wouldn’t lead him into some bizarre situation—no surprise adventures, no monsters to slay, just a nice, calm day.

Then, of course, the inevitable happened.

A small figure bumped into him, throwing his peace out the window. John glanced down with a sinking feeling, already bracing himself for the worst.

A girl. A little girl.

"Seriously?" John muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. Again? This was getting ridiculous. The last time a little girl ran into him, he wound up on a perilous goblin-slaying quest. He still had terrifying nightmares from all that mess.

He sighed, resigned to his fate, then spoke up.

"Hey, you alright there?" John asked, trying to keep his voice casual—though in his head, he was already imagining the wild goose chase this girl might drag him into.

Because that’s just how his life worked, wasn’t it?
 
Thistmal Town was certainly a welcoming place -- if quite normal as compared to most other settlements in Ryke, even with its strange method of worship. So, for something so bizarre to happen in this place, it could only be natural, yes?

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Of all the people to run into today, certainly, the predictions of today could only lead in one direction -- especially with how [weirdly] she was dressed and how she walked about akin to a puppet on strings. With all these weird black plush rabbits surrounding him and running about in shock with the little girl's sudden appearance, it was inevitable that this day could only lead into one direction with one blatantly strange and bizarre outcome.

Slowly, as the boy went out of his way to check if she was alright, her head would turn upwards, tilting robotically as she would sooner
finally

eventually

make her response:

"Lacie is fine."

The girl's blue eyes stared at him uncomfortably long as her five rabbits would proceed to climb all over her.

"Hi."






Yeah, that. That was all she said.
 
John blinked.

Once. Twice.

What... in the world?

He stared at the girl—Lacie, apparently—who had just declared herself "fine" in the most unsettling, puppet-like way possible. Her head had moved in stiff motions, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that made his skin prickle. The five black plush rabbits—no, were they even plush? They moved far too fluidly—had now taken to crawling over her as if this was all completely normal.

John was not a stranger to strange things. He'd seen his fair share of oddities during his time as an unwilling adventurer, but this? This was... new.

For a moment, he debated his options. He could simply walk away, pretend this never happened, and salvage what little peace he still had left. But then again, he could almost feel the storm brewing. Trouble had found him again, like it always did, and this time it came in the form of a girl speaking in third person and surrounded by creepy rabbits.

With a resigned sigh, John ran a hand through his hair.

"Uh... alright then," he muttered, trying to process what was happening. "Well... Lacie... good to know you're fine."

He paused, glancing down at the odd rabbits scampering around. Were they following her, or was she controlling them somehow? Either way, it didn’t feel like the kind of situation he could just ignore and walk away from.

"So... do you, uh... need help with something? You know, aside from staring at me like I'm the weird one here?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Don’t encourage this, his brain screamed. Just don’t.

But of course, it was too late. He'd already opened the door to whatever bizarre rabbit hole awaited him.

Literally, in this case.
 
As John's eyes continued to observe the rabbits he would notice...They were...uh...scampering towards him? For some reason???

Meanwhile, the girl -- Lacie was just --

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She had


the same expression as ever

as she just


yknow.


continued to stare at him.

. . .

“Appraisal.”

That one singular word broke an awkward silence between the two, before she would eventually continue on to answer his query with the nod of her head.

“Lacie does not inject her thoughts,” she stated in response to his question. “Lacie is merely a vessel for observing and recording. Observers must minimize their presence to produce a most accurate recording.”

In other words, she seemed to prefer against injecting any particular opinions.

As Lacie would speak, one of her rabbits would, following a small wave of her hand, speedily sprint towards her with a small pen and paper for her to use, eccentrically beginning to bumping its head into the ground akin to a seiza once she picked it up, before continuing to cheerily scamper in a circle around the two of them with the others.

Ah. That’s what they were doing.

“Lacie is trying to know the name of this town. Does the [Human] John know what the name of this town is?”

That…sounded to be a simple question, right?
 
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John stood there, completely dumbfounded, watching the rabbits scamper toward him like they were on a mission, only to start circling him and the girl like tiny, furry sentinels. Meanwhile, Lacie—who hadn’t so much as blinked—kept her unnerving gaze fixed on him, her robotic demeanor somehow becoming even more unsettling with each passing second.

Appraisal? What in the world was she appraising?

John opened his mouth to say something but immediately snapped it shut when Lacie finally responded to his earlier question.

“Lacie does not inject her thoughts.”

What?

“Lacie is merely a vessel for observing and recording. Observers must minimize their presence to produce a most accurate recording.”

John furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Was she... some sort of walking, talking journal? And what was with the whole "not injecting her thoughts" thing? This girl was quickly becoming the strangest encounter he’d had in quite some time—and that was saying something.

Just as he was trying to wrap his head around it, one of the rabbits sprinted forward, carrying a pen and paper like a well-trained assistant. It even bowed, kind of, bumping its head into the ground before resuming its weird, cheerful dance around them. The others followed suit, circling in what felt like some kind of bizarre ritual.

John rubbed his temple. He was going to need a drink after this.

And then came the question.

“Does the [Human] John”was that how she saw him? Just a mere human? Does that mean she wasn't human or something?“know what the name of this town is?”

John exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. A simple question. Keep it simple, John.

"Yeah," he replied, trying to stay calm. "It's Thistmal Town."
 
It was hard to tell what exactly was on her mind, going as the girl’s expression did not change.

And so, the girl
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simple just stared at him blankly for quite some time with his response, the air growing colder and more eerie as the bunnies would, in their odd, ritualistic manner begin to line up with John’s response. They then began to grab some…more pens and paper…? Quickly, they began to jostle scribbles onto them, before they would turn and show the contents to him.

Her eyes merely stayed on him, before she would soon speak up.

"Lacie understands that she is in this small town," she affirmed with a nod, “but…her question is not yet answered —“

As if to emphasize on her confusion, they produced and turned “????” signs in John’s direction, bobbing the signs up and down.

“…what is this small town's name…??”
 
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John’s eyebrow twitched.

The air around them seemed to grow colder, more bizarre by the second, and it wasn’t helping that Lacie's expression remained as blank and unreadable as ever. Her words barely registered before his attention shifted to the strange procession happening in front of him—those rabbits, now eerily organized, holding up pens and paper like a tiny, unsettling army.

And then, the signs.

John stared at the jostling bunnies as they proudly presented their scribbled "????" in unison, bobbing up and down in perfect rhythm as if to hammer home the confusion.

Are you kidding me...? His patience, which had already been wearing thin, was rapidly fraying.

With a heavy sigh, John rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache. “Okay, listen,” he said, speaking slowly as if explaining something to a small child. “I’ve already told you. The name of this small town… is Thistmal Town. That’s it. There’s no trick. No hidden meaning. Thist. Mal. Town.”

He paused, watching to see if anything would click behind those blank blue eyes.

“And yes, it’s a small town. And yes, it’s this town,” he added for extra clarity, gesturing at the buildings around them. “It’s not a metaphor. It’s just... the name.

John exhaled slowly, hoping he’d managed to explain it in terms simple enough for even the plush-wielding, robotic girl to understand. But deep down, he already knew.

It probably wasn’t going to be that easy.
 
“This small town…” Lacie muttered. “Is…named...what?"

Indeed, this wasn't going to be easy at all. ;)

She would wait for him to explain the name of the town alongside the bunnies -- pausing for a moment as she would wait for him to finish. After quite a while of waiting, of course, her blue eyes would continue to blink as she soon realized the explanation had come to an end.

Her index landed at the bottom of her chin as her head would slowly tilt further and further -- think aloud -- maybe for quite a while -- as if she might have missed something.




"So...then...this small town's name...is...

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Lacie believes she missed the last part. This small town...Of. Of what?”

...As if to make light of his suffering, the bunnies began flailing their "????" signs upwards again in bobs and hops again.
 
John felt his patience hanging by a thread. He could already sense where this was going, and it was driving him up the wall.

Lacie tilted her head further, and then, in that monotone voice of hers, she asked, “So... then... this small town's name is…”

Oh no, not again.

John squeezed his eyes shut for a second, taking a deep breath. She’s misunderstanding me. Okay, fine. I can fix this. Just keep calm.

“No, no, no—Lacie, listen.” He put his hands up, trying to explain slowly, like he was negotiating with a toddler. “I’m not saying ‘This Small Town’ like you think I am. I’m saying ‘Thistmal Town.’ That’s the name. Thistmal. It’s a name, not a description.”

He emphasized the word, carefully enunciating: Thist-mal.

For a moment, John let himself believe that might actually work—that his crystal-clear clarification would put an end to this bizarre back-and-forth. But just as he was beginning to hope…

The bunnies started flailing their “????” signs again, bouncing around like they were staging some kind of surreal protest, clearly not getting the memo.

John's eye twitched harder now. Thistmal, Lacie. Not ‘This Small.’ It's Thistmal Town! Like a name. A proper noun. Not a size!”

He pointed around in desperation, like it would somehow help. “The name of the town. Thistmal. You’re not asking about how big it is, you’re asking what it's called!

He rubbed his face, feeling a headache blooming. “Do you get it? Not 'this small,' but Thist-mal.

But deep down, as the bunnies gleefully bounced with their question marks, he could already feel the familiar tug of impending doom.
 
"Ah. Lacie...believes she understands." Lacie nodded her head.

It must have been a miracle. A beautiful, wonderful miracle which came after three days and a half of delay -- as the rabbits would slowly, but surely place down their "????" signs.

"Thistmal. Is the name," the girl realized, almost enlightened in her monotonous tone. There was little room for error in interpreting what a 'proper noun' was, after all.

But in all tales since old, not every miracle came without a cost. If anything, it seemed John's kindness paved way for Pandora's box to be opened. And open Pandora's box, it did.

"This small town...is Thistmal. But...why is Thistmal Town Thistmal? Is it because of Thistmal River? But why is Thistmal river Thistmal?"

The rabbits were now all staring at John all at once, as if he were an encyclopedia of knowledge. Tilting her head, she elaborated on, as if asking in their place.

"Thistmal Town doesn't seem as though it is that small...but Thistmal Town is described as Thistmal, is it not? Where does Thistmal come from? Is it a person, a place, a thing, a fruit? Or is Thistmal simply unimportant to the greater picture? Why is John in Thistmal Town, anyways???"
 
John's brain short-circuited for a moment. He had done it—he had finally gotten Lacie to understand the town’s name. But before he could even savor the tiny victory, the floodgates of questions opened. And it wasn’t just her—the rabbits, now all staring at him like little plush scholars, seemed equally invested in the sudden barrage of whys.

Pandora’s box? Oh, it was wide open now.

John’s mouth hung open slightly as Lacie's monotone interrogation began. Why is Thistmal Town Thistmal? Why is the river named Thistmal? What does Thistmal even mean? Is it a fruit?!

He blinked rapidly, processing the endless string of questions, and then—

"Wait—what?!" John blurted out, his voice climbing an octave. “Hold on, wait, slow down—Thistmal is just... the name, okay? I don’t know why it’s Thistmal! There’s no fruit, or—or person that I know of named Thistmal walking around!”

He waved his arms frantically. “It’s just a name! Like any other town name! No deep meaning, no ancient mystery!”

He threw a hand toward the bunnies, who were still watching him intently like they expected him to deliver the secrets of the universe. “And why am I here? I—because I just am, okay? It’s not some big cosmic reason, I’m just passing through!”

He stopped, breathing a bit harder than he should have been. He pointed a finger at Lacie. “No more questions about Thistmal. It’s just a town. That’s it. Please.”

But deep down, John had a sinking feeling. He could practically feel the next wave of questions forming, lurking just beneath the surface.

And the bunnies… they were still staring.
 
"The John...is unsure of why Thistmal is this small? Interesting...Such questions are to be considered regarding this small town, indeed. Perhaps discovering the etymology of this small town's name and origins may lead to The John's furthered enlightenment in regards to why it is that both Lacie and him are able to pass through..."

Lacie would start jotting notes down into her papers, nodding her head with great interest as if his commentary had any actual or real value -- even as they were, really, just him answering her questions or retorting back with claims to a lack of understanding. Apparently, just as much as she was taking interest in his comments, the bunnies in all their staring also took great interest in John's flailing about -- for they began to follow suit in flailing their arms about just as him.

Luckily, it seemed she was listening to his pleas -- the girl stared at him for a moment before nodding her head.

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"As requested, that shall be all on the questions Lacie shall ask regarding Thistmal Town," Lacie stated with the nod of her head. "The Human John's request has been taken into account.

...So then Lacie has decided that she and the bunnies will ask The John questions about him."

The bunnies began to follow forth with the girl's eyes, prodding curiously at John again, as if inspecting him.

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"Who is John? Why is he an adventurer? Is John from Ryke? Does John like bunnies? What is John's Strength stat? As John is unfamiliar with this small town, where is John from? Why is John away from home? Does John miss his home? Is John hoping to accomplish or achieve something else aside from passing through --?"


A large barrage of questions would begin to trail out from the girl as she would continue to stare at him with a parasol over her head.
 
John’s face went blank for a moment as Lacie launched into yet another wave of questions, this time all directed at him. His brain felt like it was overheating.

Why is he an adventurer? Does he like bunnies? What’s his Strength stat?!

He stared in disbelief as Lacie’s expression remained neutral, almost… curious? And the bunnies—oh, of course, they were mimicking his earlier flailing, waving their little plush arms around in some weird bunny interpretive dance. It was like living inside a fever dream, and he had no idea how to get out of it.

I need to get her off my back. This is too much.

And then, like a divine spark, an idea hit him. He couldn't answer all these ridiculous questions—there was no end in sight. But maybe… just maybe... there was a way to get out of this.

Clearing his throat, John put on his best friendly smile, even though he felt like he was losing it. “Lacie, you’ve got some really great questions there,” he said, trying to sound as upbeat as possible. “Honestly, I’m impressed! I don’t think I’ve ever been asked so many things all at once.” He chuckled, hoping his act was convincing. “But here’s the thing—”

He paused, leaning in a bit like he was about to share some big secret. “I’m probably not the best person to answer all of those questions. However…” he added, raising a finger as if he’d just come up with a brilliant solution, “I know a place that can! There’s a spot here in town that specializes in helping people with lots of questions—kind of like a knowledge center.”

He gestured vaguely down the street. “They’re really good with curious minds, and they’ll definitely have the answers you’re looking for about Thistmal Town and, uh, maybe even some stuff about me.” He offered a quick laugh. “I’m sure they’ve got better info than I do.”

John stood back a little, letting the idea sink in, and then added, “I can show you where it is, if you’d like. It’s not far from here—just down the street.”

He held his breath for a moment, hoping Lacie would take the bait. Please work. Please work. If he could just get her to the childcare center, maybe they could help handle all these endless questions... and give him a much-needed break from this surreal interrogation!
 
Maybe John was simply lucky that this Lacie individual didn't seem to have much insight to doubt him in the first place.

...Or maybe it was the luck of the gods.

As John would flub up a lie, by luck, his eyes would come across the sign pointing towards the merchant area. He would recall -- down that road was Thistmal's management center, request board, several different shops, and a library.

If he figured out where the library was amongst the sea of buildings, wouldn't that be the perfect method of escape...?

"...Knowledge...center?"

The first judgment of his success then came as Lacie's eyes seemed to widen briefly. For most, maybe this sort of expression wouldn't mean much.

...But on a face like Lacie's which didn't seem to emote much, it was clear that she was captivated by this idea, as her head would nod rapidly.

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"Please take Lacie and her rabbits to this...'knowledge center.' Lacie is dying to know where this place is. Please. Please. Please."
 
John exhaled a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. It worked. She actually bought it! He couldn’t believe his luck. If it got him out of this bizarre situation, he’d be willing to lead her to a sock drawer and call it a research facility.

He started down the road toward the childcare center, Lacie and her curious, ever-staring bunnies in tow. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, until suddenly—

The tunic!

He completely forgot. Most of his villager tunics in his closet had been through one too many scrapes—goblins, mud, and whatever else life threw his way. They were practically falling apart, and he had no idea when he'd get another chance to replace them. Adventuring, after all, was anything but predictable.

John glanced at Lacie out of the corner of his eye. She still seemed laser-focused on this whole “knowledge center” idea, her eyes wide with an unsettling curiosity. Great, he thought, as long as I don’t take too long, maybe she won’t cause a scene.

“Right, the, uh... knowledge center,” John muttered, coughing awkwardly as he subtly veered off the main path toward the row of shops he’d passed earlier. “But before we get there, I need to make a quick stop.” He flashed her a strained smile. “Won’t take long. Promise.”

Without giving her time to question it, he steered them toward the tailor’s shop. Before entering though, he turned to face Lacie. "And please, do me a favor and keep the questions to a bare minimum."
 
"Right. Of course. Small stops are never unacceptable." Lacie would salute, if a bit awkwardly alongside the rest of her bunnies, following after the pair with an almost patriotic march. "Lacie shall follow after The John's requests and keep questions to a bare minimum. Capiche."

Thankfully, in contrast to her strange and overwhelmingly interrogative questions before, with little struggle, John managed to steer Lacie along with little to no effort, the girl being quite cooperative with his path as he would carry along through the shopping area.

Eventually, they would come across a tailor shop -- situated in an area not too densely packed, if a bit further away from any of the guardsmen.

Here, there would be yet another presence within Thistmal Town who would come to relevance.

Perhaps it's been a while since the last she'd been seen -- there, of course, is a reason for this.

A certain [Blacksmith Expert] of wintry white hair was currently stationed outside a small tailor shop for...well, many sorts of goods, really. She was a lass of vast talents, after all -- and that made her products reliable to many. With there being very few new visitors for the day, she would find the time and chance to relax and take a break -- a vast difference from her times working in the bustling big city.

Within this peaceful Thistmal Town, though there weren't as many people who would go out of their way to ask her for her assistance, the gentle songs of the people and the different festivals made it difficult for her not to find charm in this place.

...Plus, the owner of this shop was quite generous despite her only working there part-time. It would have been a shame for her to not take up his offer.

Unfortunately, even in a peaceful town as this, there were some individuals that were a little too fond of causing trouble.

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"YOWWA!! ZOINKERS!!" A black-haired man with whisker-like markings on his face would stomp his feet, walking right towards the blacksmith. "LOOKATTHAT, GERALD!! That lady's gyatt sure is fetch, ain't it?"

"Damn right, Sasunaru...we've hit the jackpot, huh? HEY, MISSY -- This a TAILOR SHOP? What'll it take for ya to sell what yer wearin'?" The red haired man gave a wink.

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"Men, men, calm yourselves down around this looovely lady, won't you?" The last man raised his arms up coolly, before approaching the woman with a wink. "Let's cut to the chase -- give us everything you got or this cute shop of yours is going to hell down with us."
 
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Melissa
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Melissa leaned back in her chair, hands resting on her lap as she hummed a merry tune to herself. The morning had been slow in her tailor shop. That was until a trio of loudmouths barged their way in causing a huge ruckus. She eyed them with mild disdain, her fingers itching to pull out her sword right then and there.

“Sell what I’m wearin’?” she replied to the red haired boy, her face deadpanned. “Lad, ye couldn’t afford the dust off me boots.”

In response to the last man, Melissa stepped forward, her armored boots thudding heavily on the floor, eyes locked on them like a hawk sizing up prey. “Ye think ye can waltz in here and make threats? This shop’s seen tougher than the likes of ye. I’ve made weapons sharper than your wits, and if ye push me, I’ll use ‘em too.”

Cracking her knuckles, she gave a sharp grin. “Now, best ye crawl back where ye came from ‘fore I decide to send ye there meself.”
 
John pushed the door open, the sound of the shop’s bell barely ringing before his brain registered the scene unfolding in front of him. He froze in place, halfway through the doorway, with Lacie and her horde of bunnies close behind. For a moment, all he could do was blink.

What in the...

The tailor shop wasn’t exactly the quiet, peaceful stop he’d hoped for. Instead, it looked like he’d walked straight into some kind of ridiculous standoff. Three loud, obnoxious guys stood in front of a woman—clearly the shopkeeper here, judging by the way she carried herself—with one of them was straight up threatening her right in the face.

John’s eyes flicked from the red-haired guy to the woman clad in full metal armor, whose boots thudded heavily on the floor as she stepped forward, clearly not in the mood to entertain their nonsense. Oh, great. Just what I needed. More trouble.

He could see where this was going. He’d been in enough taverns, run into enough idiots, to know that the air was thick with impending disaster.

A sigh escaped him before he could stop it. He was about two seconds away from pretending he hadn’t seen any of this and heading for the nearest exit when he felt Lacie’s presence—and her ever-watchful bunnies—right behind him. Great. No way out now.

"Uh... excuse me," John called out, stepping fully into the shop, but his voice was hesitant, like he was already regretting getting involved. "We were just... passing through. I need to pick up a tunic, and, uh, don’t mean to interrupt, but… what exactly is going on here?"

His gaze shifted nervously between the shopkeeper lady and the 3 troublemakers. Here he was, standing in the middle of a potential fight in a tailor shop, with Lacie and her army of plush rabbits undoubtedly staring at him like he had answers to everything.

John cleared his throat, trying to stay calm. “I don’t want any part of... whatever this is, but maybe we could all just... chill?”

Please let that work, he thought, though he knew from experience that it probably wouldn't.
 
The trio exchanged glances, their cocky smirks twisting into something nastier as Melissa stepped forward. The red-haired one sneered as she shot back her deadpan response.

“Oh, we’ve got a mouthy one, huh?” he snarled, cracking his neck as if gearing up for something. “Guess we’ll just have to take those boots off ye ourselves.”

Sasunaru let out a low, guttural laugh. “Yeah, you think you can scare us, lady? I don’t care if you’ve made weapons sharper than my wit—let’s see how tough you really are.” His hands balled into fists, preparing for a fight.

The “cool” guy—the one who had been playing it calm—smirked and stepped forward. “Big talk for a blacksmith in the middle of nowhere. How ‘bout we test those weapons you’re so proud of?” He reached into his jacket, pulling out a gleaming knife with a casual flick of his wrist. The blade caught the light as he held it loosely at his side.

Just then, John and Lacie entered the scene.

The red-haired one turned around first, his cocky grin spreading as he looked John up and down. "Who’s this guy?" he scoffed, elbowing the black-haired man. “Yo, Sasunaru, looks like we got another one in the mix.”

Sasunaru grinned, flashing a mouthful of crooked teeth. “This one looks like he might cry if we breathe on him too hard.”

The last man stared at John, adjusting his collar with a sneer. “Easy, boys, let’s not get too carried away. This fella looks like he’s lost. What’s the matter, pal? You tryin’ to get some trash made in this lil rundown shop?”

John sighed inwardly. Of course they’d turn this into a thing.

“I don’t want any part of... whatever this is,” John said, his voice steadying as he glanced at Melissa, then back at the trio. “But maybe we could all just... chill?”

The red-haired one snorted. “Chill? What’s the fun in that?”

“Yeah, we’re just getting started!” Sasunaru chimed in, giving John a mock bow. “But hey, if you’re offering to buy the lady’s boots or whatever she’s wearin’ like we are, maybe we’ll let ya join us.”

The cool guy smirked and stepped closer to John, sizing him up. “Come on, pal. Why don’t you take a little walk while we finish our business here? You’re not gonna want to stick around for what’s next.”

John’s hand twitched by his side. No weapons needed, but his fists were ready. Fine, he thought, if they want a fight, they’re gonna get one.

And with that, the room erupted into chaos.

A cartoonish dust cloud swirled up around them as fists, legs, and the occasional bunny from Lacie’s entourage popped in and out of the fray. KAPOW! BAM! BIF! echoed through the tailor shop as limbs flew in every direction.



The dust finally settled. The three thugs were lying on the floor, groaning in pain, clutching their bruises and what little pride they had left. The redhead staggered to his feet, rubbing his arm and glaring at John and Melissa.

“We won’t forget this!” he spat, before Sasunaru and the "cool" guy scrambled up, groaning and limping their way out the door. The trio stumbled off, muttering curses under their breath.

“Well, that was easy.” John dusted off his hands, although most of the fight was breezed through with low effort narrating. With the dust clearing, John turned to Melissa, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you. Name’s John. I’m here to get a tunic made, though... I guess things got a little lively first.”
 
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Melissa
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Melissa let out a huff, rolling her shoulders and glancing around at the chaos left in the wake of the brawl. The shop was a right mess—racks knocked over, tunics scattered across the floor, and fabric tossed about like confetti. Not exactly how she imagined her day going, but at least the thugs were gone.

She turned to John and Lacie, offering a small, appreciative grin. “Aye, thanks fer the help there, Mr. John… an’ ye too, Ms. Bunny Lady,” she said with a nod toward Lacie and her entourage of rabbits. “Could’ve handled meself, but that went a lot smoother wi’ the two o’ ye pitchin’ in.”

Her eyes swept over the shop again, and she let out a low, rumbling sigh. “Although…” she muttered, scratching her head. “As ye can see, we made a wee bit o’ a mess in the process.” She gestured to the upturned chairs and fabric piles. “The place needs a proper cleanin’ before the owner gets back, or I’ll have more trouble on me hands.”

Melissa bent down, gathering a few tunics and tossing them over a rack, her face scrunched in mild annoyance. “So, I cannae get to yer tunic just yet,” she said, straightening up. “But—” She reached into her pocket, pulling out two business cards and handing them to John and Lacie. “Here, take these. Ye come back once I’ve tidied up, an’ I’ll make sure ye get what ye need. Might even throw in a discount as thanks fer the help.”

She gave them both a hearty smile, brushing a stray lock of white hair out of her face. “Come by anytime, I’ll have the place in better shape by then, promise ye that.”

With that, she grabbed a broom, the handle creaking in her grip as she set to work, humming a dwarven tune under her breath. “Aye, an’ don’t be strangers now!” she called, already getting to work on the wreckage.
 
And so!!! They were successful!! (Thank you Jay for narrating for me oh my god im dying please give him like 20 bonus points during grading grandpa nova i will buy you new ram)

Lacie's head tilted slightly, her pale blue eyes tracking the merchant's every movement as the business card is handed over. She took it slowly, her fingers brushing it with methodical care, as if the card might reveal some hidden truth upon closer inspection. “Lacie accepts this gift. Thank you kind and beautiful Miss,” she murmured, her voice devoid of inflection, like a doll’s that had learned speech.

As though to remark on her invisible happiness, the rabbits would go into a flurry of silent excitement -- the five of them hopping about excitedly as they would leap all about her, heads twitching rapidly, mimicking fainting in joy before hoping up and down again and again.

Given a quick glance over the business card, she realized that the name of the merchant here was 'Melissa.' Not that appraisal couldn't have given her that information, but there there felt to be a more elegant satisfaction for her to find in reading or finding information through natural means. She slipped the card into a hidden pocket of her dress, though she couldn't help but mutter a realization under her breath.

“Lacie wonders...if Thistmal Town tends to have a lot of trouble,” she muttered, tilting her head. "This small town...doesn't seem like it should have a lot of trouble in the first place with its culture...or maybe it's just a strange distribution of labor...but there are plenty of guards in this town are there not...? Or...could it be that one group that the townsfolk keep mentioning...?"

Eventually, she shook her head, remembering her promise with John before glancing up to Melissa once again, a tilt of her head.

"If Miss Melissa needs...Lacie's rabbits might be able to help in the cleanup process," she offered, almost forgetting her initial purpose for being there. "Also...might Miss Melissa know where the 'knowledge center' is?"
 

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