Graded [Ryken City] A Ryken Winter Story

[Novama]

Intro

This rp will follow the characters Michael (former college athlete now adventurer), Ophenia (former tragedy now musical sensation hopeful), and others partaking in the festivities, as Ophenia works towards gaining recognition for her performing talents. During the winter months of Ryken, the trade capital of the Ryke Protectorate, many travelers and tourists come from all over to take in the sights, sounds, and smells of the holidays on showcase in the city streets and plazas. Performers come too. The city is alive with carols and music that adds warmth to the winter chill and merriment to the sometimes treacherous comings and goings on slick streets.

The Hall of Pipes, one of the grandest musical and performance centered venues in all of the Ryke Protectorate, puts on a grand show during year's end. The show is talked about for a solid month before and after the event and generally those able to attend have memories of the performances for years after the event. It is the goal of all performers hoping to become famous and known for their talents to perform in the Hall of Pipes at least once. Not only does it give them renown enough to make them a household name in the capital city, but it also certifies them as an up and coming talent worth keeping an eye on. It is not uncommon for the wealthy merchant or noble to sponsor such an individual in their artistic endeavors.

However, to perform in the Hall of Pipes, one must have displayed their talents repeatedly in front of crowds already. They needed the more than just the talent to perform, but also a certain level of charisma and flair that gets the people talking. The most straight forward way to garner the appropriate attention and earn a spot in the Hall of Pipes roster? Venture to any of the major plazas in Ryken and start to perform. How thoroughly you control the spaces while competing with other performers and random happenings in the square will make it clear whether you have what it takes. Supposedly, The Hall of Pipes have representatives combing the city for such talents during this time of year in preparation for the show later in the year.

Only time, talent, and luck would tell if Ophenia had what it took to participate this year.

 

[Faynorae]

​

"I'll name every star something beautiful."
Ah, it was that time of the year again. A time where the gaze of the moon's pale glow is covered up by dozens of clouds, as snow falls down covering the area in a veil of purity. Ryken was quite festive at this time of year. And yet the only thing that came to Ophenia's mind was that this was her opportunity to start rising her dream. But the first problem came swiftly like the wind in blossoming springtime. It was cold. Ophenia was sitting on a bench, eating a popsicle as the snow slowly fell from the desaturated sky. She got some confused, even disgusted glances from passersby. Was it due to eating a cold treat in such weather or the gaudy costume which looked like it barely kept her warm?

Much to the relief of the sylphid, Ophenia was slightly resistant toward the cold breeze. Though only slightly enough so she could still dance in such horrid weather. Though, the festivities warmed her heart enough to the point where her excitement toward her future performance was enough to keep her lying to herself that she wasn't freezing, this costume is totally fit for the winter climate, everything is fine. Covering her knees with the frivolous ruffles that adorned the sides of her shorts. As she thought to herself, looking at the sky once more.

"Oh me Oh my, I'm going to be a frozen statue attraction before I can actually perform."

The girl was already nervous about performing. For today the Ryke was bustling with denizens from all around who'd want to take part in the festivities. It would be so much more people than the tiny crowds which would gather around the girl as she busked on the street. She wasn't popular at all, due to the songs she sang and her dances breaking the traditional standards of music. They didn't sound like the average performers' song, nor were they covers of the more popular tavern singers. The concept of using magic as a musical instrument, the cutesy dance routines and her lyrics which vaguely imply messages about sensitive topics regarding the philosophy of people often sang with a bubbly voice. How would such a combination of things ever get popular?

Whatever not, the girl couldn't just get lost in her own muses and worries. Today was the day she'd sing and gather a crowd. She hopped off the bench, as a chilling breeze sets the mood for the gloomy starlet. Feinting up a smile, for today is the day she fights for the attention of the masses. Step one was looking for a suitable place to perform. Somewhere where no one else is performing, yet people are still gathered around nearby. . . Why not start here? The girl's heart already started to skip beats, as she took out [The Resonator] which she uses to perform.

Hoping that the mana doesn't overflow or it somehow breaks, Ophenia imbues it with a bit of mana and lifts it into the air. Fluttering above her, the resonator emits colourful lights that start surrounding the girl. Some people passing by noticed the colourful lights and started to gather, not too many, but not as little as the normal crowds she's used to. Mostly common folk, and yet their gazes were like piercing ice. Would a love song be appropriate for this occasion? Or would starting with her signature melodies be a better choice? She didn't know or she was caught up in the anxiousness building up inside. Since today, right here, right now, she was gonna sing.

And so, she began her performance.

 

[Parrot Parfait]

Benjiro Ikeda

"You've gotta to be kidding me."
Interactions: Faynorae ​

---

"Seriously?" Ben cursed. As he was right now, Ben was currently at the edge of street staring down a huge crowd. Oh, not to mention, it was also freezing cold.

"Of all the times that guy could have placed me..." Ben muttered to himself, "Why did it have to be in the middle of the butt-naked winter?" Ben continued to look absently into the moving crowd. To say the least, Ben was having a terrible day. His daughter refusing to wake up, the truck nearly breaking down, then the landslide that presumably killed both of them, and to top it off, the news that his daughter couldn't be reincarnated as a human? A foul mood was the best Ben could be right now. Though, he didn't have time to brood over his misfortunes as he had a tiny life in his arms... or more like a huge egg in his arms. After patting the foot-ball sized egg that housed Asuga, a small relief warmed his heart. She was safe, at least, kinda. The two of them, unfortunately, were in the middle of a freezing winter, something that certainly wasn't good for an incubating egg. After putting Asuga into the bag the being gave him and hugging the bag to keep Asuga warm, Ben looked left and right for any signs of an inn, to which there were none.

"Damn," Ben grumbled to himself, "at least the being could have dropped me off somewhere nice... or at least near an inn." Without any inns in sight, he started walking off in a random direction, passing through various streets and squares, all of which had at least one performer. Ben cursed the being once again as he really wanted to watch these street artists, but alas, he still needed to find an inn due to the being's lack of positional awareness. At least Ben got a fair amount of money from the being. Ben, after searching for a solid half-hour, finally found an inn. As Ben entered the inn, a warmth washed over him, making him feel as if he were going to melt from comfort. After asking a few of the exiting customers about the price of the inn, Ben talked to the inn keeper about getting a room. Fortunately for him, the inn keeper was not the conning type, and happily gave Benjiro his room key for only a few Rykes. (Apparently, several Rykes, the cost of portal travel, is not cheap)

----

"I'll be back soon. You stay safe, okay?" Ben whispered warmly to the blanket wrapped egg. After checking into his room, Ben took some time to look over his belongings, which wasn't really much. There were the seeds he brought over for his daughter's show and tell, his smart phone plus hand-crank charger, a good amount of Rykens, an IOU note from the being (he really didn't like this one), and strangely enough, a book titled "How to train your..." with instructions on how to hatch the egg. After taking inventory, Ben thought for a moment on what he was going to do next. It was winter, so obviously he wasn't going to do any farming any time soon. Though, even if he wanted to, he couldn't since he was missing two crucial things: land and equipment. With those two things in mind, Ben then set off, but not before giving Asuga a loving kiss. As soon as Ben took a step outside the inn, however, he realized that there was a third, much more crucial thing he needed: winter clothing.

After walking around a bit and asking for directions, Ben got absolutely nowhere. Defeated and frosted, Ben sat down on one of the benches in the square before crossing his arms in an attempt to warm up. It was then that he noticed a flamboyantly but thinly dressed lady standing up. Ben was astounded that she was dressed so thinly in such cold whether. Looks like the performers were having it rougher than him. While he and the crowd were watching, the girl did what seemed to be a short mic-test before doing a little intro and performing her first song. As Ben listened to the song, he couldn't help but be shocked at what he was hearing. Her singing wasn't bad, actually. In fact, her singing was really good. What really shocked Ben was the fact she was singing in a pop-culture style, the last thing he'd expect in a medieval/renaissance world like this. Unsure of how to process this information, Ben just got into the groove of the song, enjoying its cadence and message. At some point in the song, he unknowingly began clapping to the beat of the performer's voice, but when he noticed and became embarrassed, he didn't stop. For one, he felt it would be weirder to stop, and two, he didn't want to discourage the young miss, especially since she had the guts to wear clothing like that in the freakin' frigid cold.

 

[TheSimianMind]

[Dock] Ward to [Castle] Ward: Clarice Gailingen
​

Confronted with a rambunctious party of adventurers hauling her semi-conscious boss from the tangle of charred timbers that was once her workplace, Clarice stops short in the middle of the cobble road, briskly pivots on her heels, and, as calmly and inconspicuously as she can manage, strolls away from the dreary wreckage of her latest job. While she is more than miffed that her boss hadn't the decency to properly compensate her for her labors prior to his capture, she wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over the loss of that blunderer, for he was an insipid hack whose half-baked schemes and boorish manners could only have been inspired by a mustache-twirling villain in a Saturday Morning Cartoon. More to the point, Clarice had already purloined a prize from the wares he smuggled into Ryke - a simple mithril band fished out of the shipwreck-adorned Bay of Ysidia - which some might consider payment (albeit especially meager payment) for services rendered. At least this time she wasn't on shift when everything went up in smoke. That is never a rewarding topic to broach during an interview.

With a crisp layer of snow crunching beneath her burnished cavalier boots, Clarice expediently wends into the nearest alley that is free of upstart adventurers armed for bear and, by all appearances, backed by the thrice-damned Adventurers Guild of Ryke - a guild that, like Logia Academy and, by extension, her mother, can't bear the thought of someone else - someone more capable - possessing any of the fun artifacts. No, they have to lock the fun artifacts up in subterranean vaults chock full of traps and monsters because they're sooo dangerous that Clarice can't be allowed to play with them. Too bad they overlooked one! Once she -

It transfixed Clarice with its glassy-eyed gaze. Its eyes bulged lifelessly as they tore open the proscenium curtain and gazed timorously out over the band pit, beyond the house, through the lobby, and into perpetual night. Despite its gaudy attire - the garish dress of a Hall of Pipes hopeful - this venue would not brook the corpse for long. Though the frigid environment had curbed the corpse's rate of decay, it could not defend flesh or bone from enterprising scavengers. And the stench! Dear [god], how Clarice recoiled at the stench!

Rather than draw a logical conclusion based on the preponderance of evidence - the carelessly discarded, blood-smeared cudgel, the positioning of the body, the very visible signs of blunt force trauma, the perplexing fact that the corpse's pockets had not been turned inside out, the unspeakable calling card, etc. - Clarice carries on as any responsible citizen of Ryke would in such a situation. Clarice doubles over and, in a most ladylike fashion, violently disgorges. Bereft of her composure, it is nothing short of a [holiday] miracle that her boots are spared from the onslaught.

After a quarter of an hour, Clarice recovers enough of her wits to stumble away from the grisly scene. She heads somewhere - anywhere - not to a guard post, perforce, but anywhere else that isn't here. It isn't that Clarice doesn't want to interact with the city watch, mind you; matter of fact, she pines to pillory the bloody-minded city watch, lawyers, patricians, magistrates, merchants, mages, librarians, doctors, clergy, and other miscellaneous demon-serving clowns residing within the realm. It's the paperwork: unnavigable bureaucracy stapled to forms filled out in triplicate. Heck, that's half of the reason she's a professional henchman. It's too late for an open-casket funeral anyway, and honestly, the zealots plotting to sacrifice her to their blasphemous pretender-gods have probably dreamed up an infinitely more disturbing method of doing her in. Why should she care? Yes, it's far more productive for Clarice to focus on her newfound unemployment than to report a murder to the city watch.

Galumphing toward the Blitzed Bear, Clarice fights her way (sometimes literally) through crowds smitten with the umpteen flavors of the week busking on streets, clogging the veins of commerce with schmaltzy ballads and saucy serenades. Bah, what a racket! Promoters, restauranteurs, security details, and fledgling celebrities - hundreds, if not thousands, profited from this folly! She glares icy daggers at them all and even elbows them in their breadbaskets when she's sure she can get away with it, for the corpse reminded her of the true history of this competition - a history that the authorities went to great measures to conceal from the public. Beneath the glam and glitz flows a stream of roiling blood that feeds the river upon which Ryke thrives.

Clarice quickly pushes the thought aside. Her fists unfurl. She moves to rub the marks her fingernails have left on her palms. She focuses on her breathing. She can't afford to concern herself with the fate of the vainglorious youth. She can't. She can barely keep herself alive.

But when she recognizes Ophenia's performance for what it is, Clarice freezes in place and paints her eyes black.

 

[Novama]

Time: 3:00 pm
Weather: gentle snow, cold, slight breeze
Mentions: TheSimianMind Parrot Parfait Faynorae

Downtown Square

The gentle snow falling around Ophenia seemed to freeze in air and hover for a moment before being dispersed by the mana now emanating from her shining equipment. Those sensitive to mana as well as those in the immediate area could 'feel' Ophenia's performance begin and could not help but look up. Several did doubletakes as they noted her more revealing attire. Not an uncommon tactic among performers, but an effective one all the same among the predominantly male crowd moving through the square. Attention was successfully grabbed, but how Ophenia would hold onto it would be up to her. Her style of music and performance seemed to resonate most with the youth in the crowd.

The places Ben and Clarice were staying were not far from the square Ophenia was performing in. For a moment, it didn't feel like there was much of a rush to go anywhere. The hustle and bustle of the day could hold on for just a moment. Even the cold forgot to feel cold for a second.

An opportunity had been made and there were those willing to take advantage of the situation. Pickpocket holiday was nothing official but it was real. The masses of men and women in the streets, frequently distracted by one goings on or another made for prime targets. Ben and Clarice in particular each had reasons for being targeted by such individuals and it so happened that young men, seemingly immune to the charms of Ophenia's song moved inconspicuously around the outside of the square or with the crowd to hone in on Ben and Clarice as well as other targets.

Michael​

Warmly dressed and lightly armed, Michael stood not far of from Ophenia's performance as he scanned the crowd. Half an ear was being given to the song. It could not be helped. It was an effort for the young man to keep his eyes on those they may upset the performance rather than the performer. Having met Ophenia earlier and working out a deal with her, he was acting as security. While she was still too small time to have an uncontrollable mass of fans and haters trying to get at her, she was still a single girl in a big city with some unsavory types in it. Couldn't be too careful. At least it made sense to Michael so he accepted the gig for a period of time in exchange for some of the money she might get tipped from her performances.

The money started to come in. Michael's attention was broken when he heard it: the metallic clang of rykes on rykes in a bucket. The little coins they used for trade in Ryke and the new life blood for Michael in his time in this new world. The coins that went in the bucket first were smaller denomination rykes. Nothing to get overly excited about, but this was just the beginning. Hopes were high. As far as Michael could tell, the coast was clear near Ophenia but he kept resting a hand on the hilt of one of his hip mounted blades just in case.

 

[Parrot Parfait]

Benjiro Ikeda

"$%@&!"
Note: Despite the previous picture, Ben is actually wearing clothes from the isekai world. ​

---

Pickpocket shuffled closer towards the clapping man. Though the clapper was dressed rather shabbily for this weather and thus probably didn't have much coin, the fact that he was completely distracted by the performer made the clapper the perfect target. By the time the singer's song began to reach its climax, pickpocket was standing right behind the clapper and began feeling through the bag of the defenseless clapping man. A one... a two... a three... When the coin didn't appear to stop, pickpocket realized the clapper was loaded, creeping a smile across pickpocket's face. However, just as the pickpocket was taking out another batch of coins, the music reached its high prompting the clapper to make wilder movements. Caught off guard by the clapper's sudden movements, pickpocket attempted to back away, but sadly for pickpocket, he wasn't fast enough as the clapper elbowed deep into pickpocket's stomach, causing pickpocket to fall down on his butt.

----

When Ben felt that he accidentally hit someone with his wild clapping, he immediately thought, "oh crap!" As he was turning around so that he could apologize, he heard a distinct clinking with the glitter of coins surrounding the person he accidentally hit. Ben just stared blankly at the man for a few moments, trying to piece together what just happened. However, before Ben could fully put two and two together, the person scrambled off the ground and began fleeing the scene. That's when the understanding hit Benjiro.

"Hey, come back here yout brat!" Benjiro bellowed at the top of his lungs as he began giving chase to the pickpocket. "Give me back my money!" Fortunately for him, Benjiro had sense enough to cache half his money at the inn, but without knowing how much the pickpocket took, Benjiro would be at best a Popsicle everytime he stepped outside, and at worst, homeless with Asuga before the winter even ended. Neither of those endings boded well for Benjiro. As such, Benjiro doubled his efforts, shoving through the crowd in his rampage to catch the thief.

 

[Jasno]

Cordelia

Labyrinth

tags.

Parrot Parfait

location.

crowded plaza

outfit.

comfortable dress and dark colored cloak

Snowfall during the winter month was a wonderful sight to gaze upon. Indeed it was. Especially when it was your first snowfall in another world. Dark eyes peeked out from under an equally dark cloak upturned towards the sky. The capital had been painted into a winter white wonderland. It was picturesque. Truly unlike anything she had ever seen before. Cordelia had never been the religious type. This was especially true in her previous life. But this all changed after she lost her head and was reborn anew. She prayed almost daily to [god] with sincere gratitude. The entity had given her new life. Given her a blank slate. She could be anyone she wanted. There was nothing holding her back. If she wanted to be a virtuous saintness she could do that. If she desired to be a gold seeking pirate she could do that as well. This was a new world presented before her and she would ensure that she made the most of this literal god given opportunity. She'd be dammed if anyone tried to stand in her way.

This time around Cordelia wouldn't ignore the suffering of those in front of her. She wouldn't be that selfish little girl anymore. This time she swore to do better. She swore it. But that didn't mean she'd throw herself in harms way just because of her new resolve. While she was going to be better she knew her limits. If it was out of her ability to help she'd quietly stay aside and let the more qualified individuals handle the situation. This new world of hers was dangerous. Getting caught up in the wrong business because you wanted to be a self sacrificing Virgin Mary was idiotic. Rushing into something perilous without considering anything at all was idiotic. Innocent people could be harmed cause of one fool's actions. She didn't know how many stories she heard of people indirectly dying because some simpleton wanted to be heroic and was in way over their head.

It seemed her thoughts had distracted her a tad bit too much for when she came back to reality she found the performance by the girl wearing such a revealing outfit in this weather was over. Unfortunately she actually hadn't been paying much attention to begin with. The girl's vocals were good but when one was thinking deeply you wouldn't be able to pull them from their mind. The song and dance moves that were done sounded and looked awfully familiar.. Cordelia couldn't quite place it. She knew they couldn't possible be from this world. Like come on honestly? Who in their right mind would look at that performance and think native? The idea that she wasn't the only one sent to this world was a bit alarming and annoying though. Competing with someone from her world wasn't something she was going to back down from if the challenge ever came.

"Hey, come back here you brat!"

"Give me back my money!"​

Cordelia's attention was pulled by loud shouts that were coming from somewhere within the crowd. Had something happened? From what it sounded like, someone had their money stolen. With this she hurriedly checked her cloak pockets to see if her coin purse was missing. Thank [god] for it was still there. Pickpockets were common in the medieval era and with this world which seemed to be set in that era she had to be careful. While she was receiving monthly income from Lord Walter for her expenses it wasn't a lot. After all she still had to keep in account he himself was struggling and was being considerably generous in light of his House's own current situation. Bless that man. While she still thought the man was stupid she was living comfortable than most on his coin so wouldn't curse his name.

Getting back to what was happening at hand Cordelia could see people being pushed out of the way as a figure ran and the other gave a chase. It was kind of exhilarating. Like she was watching an action movie unfold before her eyes. Once they got close enough it appeared to be her turn to get shoved. But only she wasn't going to let that happen. She hated people who stole from other people. What if the person who had their money stolen really needed that? What if they were starving and that was their last ryke? So she simply lifted up her leg, poked it out of her long cloak and watch the pickpocket be sent sprawling towards the ground after tripping over her outstretched leg. Just as quickly as she did that she moved somewhat deeper into the ground.

As stated before she would not involve herself in reckless situations. The pickpocket didn't see her face, or so she hoped, in regards to that she felt it was safe for her to get involved. But Cordelia couldn't guarantee that. Nor could she guarantee that bystanders would help her if said pickpocket was angered by what she did and pulled out a weapon on her. That is why she moved deeper within the crowd. For cover and a chance to run if things became frisky. Sly like a fox and quick like a mouse.

code: s e v e n
​

 

[TheSimianMind]

[Castle] Ward: Clarice Gailingen​

Clarice had dwelled in Ryke for approximately sixteen years. As such, opportunistically preying on the weak is old hat to her. She isn't a fan of Ryke's larcenous pastime and would hardly qualify the boondoggle as sport. You see, punching down is second-nature to her: it comes as naturally as breathing. It requires no novel thought and presents a negligible risk to her health and wellbeing (financial or otherwise). Why? Well, when you cherry-pick opponents unsuited to play your game, you can reliably grind said opponents into a viscous red paste beneath your bootheels. It's one-sided. It's low-effort. It's a snooze-fest. And don't even get her started on rigging the game - that's child's play.

In spite of, or perhaps in light of, her status, Clarice is accustomed to falling victim to irksome pickpockets annually, but not once did she avenge herself on the brigands. There is, after all, a good reason why the City Watch stays its hand in lieu of doubling patrols and cracking down on the swarms of pickpockets that go hand in hand with the Festival of Pipes.

Two types of pickpockets festoon the Festival of Pipes: romantics and criminals.

The romantics, inspired by tales of dashing highwaymen and quaint tradition, target men and women of marriageable or dateable age and attempt to pilfer their handkerchiefs. In place of these handkerchiefs, they leave ransom poems demanding that the "victim" meet them at such-and-such a location, commonly a well-appointed tavern or a cafe, the night before the Festival of Pipes concludes. At this meeting, the thief would dictate the terms for the release of the handkerchief: that the "victim" spend the following day with the thief or, on occasion, one of the thief's accomplices. Until that night, gangs of thieves would convene across the city to exchange information and barter favors with each other. Back when Clarice had a slush fund, she would replace her silk handkerchief with a handful of hard candy after it was filched. Nowadays, she can't afford a silk handkerchief to snatch.

The criminals, on the other hand, exploit tradition for profit. They pinch wallets, watches, lockets, brooches, and whatever other salable items they can wrest from a body. Clarice has no love for this lot. They sow misery in fields were love ought blossom. She could excuse the behavior of the romantics - their antics were harmless and sometimes endearing - but she would like nothing more than to trade the criminals to one of the more unsavory crews of pirates she pals around with. She could do it too! All she needs is an adult-sized cage. She probably could have "borrowed" one from her ex-boss if those sodding adventurers hadn't arrested him.

As Clarice readies her incantation, one of the criminal pickpockets dips his sticky-fingers into her pocket.

A wallet! Aha! The empty coin purse must have been a ruse! Crafty bint thought she could slip one over on Ol' Bruno, eh? With glee, the criminal squeezes Clarice's "wallet" between his index and middle fingers, extracts it from Clarice's pocket, and dashes into the crowd as someone shouts at one of his compatriots. Only after Ol' Bruno absconded would he realize that he had stolen a cheap bar of soap tucked tidily into a cleaning rag from Clarice. Yep, Clarice's poor life choices had soundly trounced him. She had cheated the bloke by being flat broke and not giving a whit about any of the items in her possession save her ring.

Try as she might, Clarice cannot tie Ophenia's performance to a music genre. Even in her past life, idol culture and the music genres it spawned - K-Pop, J-Pop, C-Pop, bastardized kawaii metal, and the like - were as alien to her as Grindcore and Electro House. It probably doesn't matter much. If the performer is from another world and she's willing to market the experiences of her past life, she's a danger to them all.

With eyes as black as the abyss, Clarice clears a path to the front of the crowd. Ophenia, Michael, and all other onlookers will see a woman dressed in what most would consider men's maritime clothing stepping out of the crowd, dusting herself off, crossing her arms, and locking eyes with Michael.

Easy there, swordsman. I have business with your mistress. Would you kindly tell her that Miss Japan China has arrived to discuss a matter of grave importance?

If they were of the same world, that name was sure to grab Ophenia's attention. If it failed to elicit a response, that would be equally telling. Either outcome would be worth the price of admission.

 

[Parrot Parfait]

Benjiro Ikeda

"Give me back my money!"
Mentions: Jasno
​

---

Navigating the crowds was a bit harder than Ben had anticipated. While working the fields made Ben heartier than the average person, that didn't exactly translate to strength and size, two qualities that were important for plowing through a crowd. Meanwhile, the scamp, who was comparatively smaller than Ben, weaved around people like a fox running through a forest, creating an ever growing distance between the two. Just as Ben was losing hope he'd get his money back, the pickpocket tripped over an extended leg belonging to a random stranger. Immediately, Ben seized this opportunity to catch up, and by the time the pickpocket was scrambling to get up, Ben was already beside the little thief. With an iron clasp, Ben first grabbed the pickpocket's shirt, and then, as he did after Asuga caused trouble, he pinched the brat's ear.

"Ow! Let go ya' old man!" the pickpocket shouted. A few veins popped out on Benjiro's forehead. Old man!? What an absolutely terrible insult! If Asuga was a teenager, she'd totally weaponize that taunt against Benjiro. Thinking the fact made Ben even redder and nearly ready to turn the pickpocket into the authorities. However, as Ben took a closer look, Ben realized the pickpocket was only a kid. Well, he was actually closer to a teenager, but he was still practically a kid, and a scrawny looking one at that. Probably hungry, too. After staring down at the struggling kid for a moment, Ben dragged him off to the side with the kid hissing in pain all the way there.

"Hey, look buddy," Ben scolded while keeping a vice on the kid's ear, "I understand it's the fricken' cold winter right now and you've gotta eat, but I also gotta eat AND take care of my child." Ben than began pinching harder on the kid's ear, prompting the pickpocket yell in pain. "As you can probably tell, I'm really not in a good mood right now, but since I hate the idea of turning in a young, desperate lad as yourself, I'll let you off this one time if you give my money back. Okay?" Ben then glowered down at the kid, impatiently waiting for his response. If the kid decided to give back his money, Benjiro would hold onto the kid's ear while Ben received his money. If not, it was straight off to the guards for the kid.

 

[Faynorae]

Mentions: TheSimianMind , Novama

​

"Loving You ☆ ♡"
The performance was coming to a close, the colourful lights curated with the magic of the Resonator. Though they were dim, they still added to her performance. Brightly smiling, her heart had beat to the notes of the melody created by the Resonator. A sound she's never heard before, yet distinctly remembers singing and dancing to. The noise emitted by the Resonator was that of synthesised melodies similar to that of City Pop love songs. And with colourful lights, shimmering and surrounding the sylphid's body softly dispersing before becoming nothing as the music started to slowly die down.
As the crowd of excited individuals, thinking denizens and suspicious beings started to calm down after the performance had reached its finale. Dews of sweat, trickling down the girl's cheek, Ophenia warmly smiled at the thought of the people she might've made smile today. A chilling breeze swept over the young girl, for even though the lasting moments were filled with excitement and joy, beneath the layers of smiling faces, she felt as if something was still lacking. Whatever, she thought, brushing off the feeling, and forcing herself to crack a smile.

Soft snow fell from the azure sky above, as the once big crowd started to become unharmonious, scattering in all directions. She crouched to the ground. Only now did she notice how exhausted she was. As the frivolous frills and ribbons attached to her outfit fell around her onto the snow-covered floor.

"Maybe I should've invested in a winter costume instead... Like since when was winter ever this freezing!?" The girl softly exclaimed to herself, while trying to draw something in the snow. The practicality of the outfit was to be aesthetically "Cute," but instead it came to bite her in the back during harsh and cold times. The ice-cold lakes or ponds never used to phase her, but the cold winds of winter brushed off that resistance like pollen in the wind. The song that came to her this time though was something she wanted to think about.

The song's mellow yet still bubbly tone was enough to enjoy for anyone, yet looking past the bright tone it was sung in, she couldn't have helped but feel warm inside. The song was about loving yourself and cherishing the moments with those you loved. She pondered, how many people in the crowd would have listened to the words? How many people resonated with its meaning? Could she make people want to love their moments of life just a bit more with such a song?

For the anywho, she stopped her incessant wonders and began to finish her business with the man who approached her. The bucket of ryke which she promised to share with him was decently filled up by the crowd, and yet, she didn't want any of it. What was the point of such material when it's barely any worth to her? She planned to hand over the entire bucket or she could buy some food with a small portion of it and give it to those who would need it.

Standing up, and brushing the snow off the dress like decor adorned around her waist. And she headed over to Michael to hand over the bucket without much thought over it.

 

[Novama]

Time: 4:00 pm
Weather: gentle snow, cold, slight breeze
Mentions: TheSimianMind Parrot Parfait Faynorae Jasno
TLDR: Ben has a dangerous situation with the thief he should react to. Ophenia has to choose between talking with Barnem and Clarice if either.

Downtown Square

The thief that Ben caught looked to be a scrawny teenager. They wore several layers of wrapping clothes that didn't match, were mended in several places, were muddy, and there was a smell that Benjiro would note if he was someone with a more frequent bathing routine. Benjiro would also note the length of the thief's ear: twice as long and pointed like an elf's. The thief was a nonhuman of some kind. While one hand wrestled with Benjiro's arm to ease the tension on thief's ear, the other clung tightly to coins he stole from Ben. At Benjiro's ultimatum, the thief struggled less and seemingly considered the proposition while frantically looking around. The thief then stopped struggling entirely.

"Alright, Mr. You can have your coins back. Please don't turn me in,"

The thief added in a defeated tone. His shoulders and pointed ears slumped. His voice sounding like a boy's despite a face that was too smudgy and subtle to tell. The thief then offered the bag with the stolen Ryke's, his arm extended out toward Ben who was in front of him. It was just an act.

Using his feint of submission and other tactics, the thief would seize his opportunity. While the bag holding Ben's money was offered, the hand that had been lowered previously when he stopped struggling could reach for a knife he kept tucked away among the folds of his wrapped clothes. The thief kept a firm grip on the money purse with no intention of turning it over. With a similarly firm grip on the handle of his knife, the rogue would try to slash at the hand Ben was using to hold the thief in place to free himself. It was already established the demihuman was better at getting away if he could get free again. Thankfully for the criminal, Benjiro had moved them to the side in a less crowded space so if things got messy, there would be fewer witnesses or persons that would go out of their way to care including patrolling guards.

Meanwhile,

At the conclusion of Ophenia's performance in the square, the spectators proved to be fairly generous in their donations. The little bucket that had been setup to collect them had filled with all manner of common and uncommon coins, testifying to the success of the show despite its unusual stylings. Other performers in the square, some of whom were performing before Ophenia started, were not quite as rewarded nor able to maintain audience interest as much for as long. It was but one performance, but for a first, it was a clear success. The crowd seemed to be dazed at the conclusion of the show, as if caught in a day dream. They eventually dispersed, each going his or her own way, but with a little more pep in their step.

Michael​

Continuing to pass his eyes over the crowd, Michael noted the incident Benjiro had during the performance. Muscles tensed as he shifted his stance, but before he moved to get involved, he stopped himself. The situation would have been nothing overly troubling for Michael to get involved in, but he recalled his reason for being there and shifted back to a more relaxed posture as he continued to look out for his singing charge.

The snow that was falling was piling up on Michael's head. He had a coat with a hood, but he didn't want to wear the hood afraid it would obstruct his view and make him less effective at his job. However, that also meant he would have to regularly wipe the snow out of his hair and face, as well as remove any of the water from what had melted.

When Ophenia had finished singing and tottered over to Michael with the earnings, he was already looking away from her, engaged in conversation with Clarice. The singing was over and the crowd has mostly passed on, so Michael had no difficulty in hearing Clarice, but what she said pulled him out of his revelry in Ophenia's songs.

"Come again?"

Michael asked sharply, his brows furrowed atop his stern gaze. Catching Ophenia's approach from the corner of his eyes, he kept his eyes on Clarice while intentionally putting himself between the two girls. Both hands were now at his waste gripping the hilts of his blades. His fingers were bone white. Was unclear if it was from the force with which he held his blades, or if it was due to the cold on his moist fingers.

"Um, hello? Excuse me. Pardon my intrusion into your conversation but I am Barnem Pipes from the Hall of Pipes. Surely, you have heard of my music hall. I wish to have a moment of that young woman's time. After witnessing her performance first hand, I just knew I had to meet with her."

An older man with a deep, polished voice chimed into the exchange and gestured toward Ophenia. Barnem Pipes, the man behind the annual Hall of Pipes show. This was a golden opportunity for Ophenia. Was he going to offer her the invitation to perform at the hall? Was he merely a fan and going to give her tips to better her career? Perhaps he simply wanted to sponsor her future endeavors and let her talents ripen. Whatever the case was, it would seem like a potentially very important conversation. It fell to Ophenia's hands what she would do, but Clarice was also hoping for some of Ophenia's time. Would speaking with either allow for a discussion with the other? Ophenia's chat with Barnem could run long, but Barnem was a busy man so speaking with Clarice may mean missing out on a chat with Barnem.

 

[Parrot Parfait]

Benjiro Ikeda

"Dammit...!"
Mentions: Jasno
​

---

When the pickpocket gave up completely to Benjiro, Ben couldn't help but mistrust the little miscreant. Though, he wasn't sure why. The only experience guiding him was the tricks Asuga played when she was in an earlock like this. It went something like this: Step one, suddenly act submissive to lower Ben's guard down, step two, do something crazy to break free, and then step three, make the house look as if an earthquake had hit it. Thus, when the kid took out the bag and held it in front of him, Benjiro commanded, "Drop the bag on the floor."

"Wuh?" The pickpocket exclaimed, surprised. In that moment, Ben's instincts tingled at the subtle flag, prompting him to pinch harder. "Ow ow ow ow!" The kid yelled, still managing to hold onto the bag tightly. While the kid was distracted by the pain, Ben took the opportunity to take the kid's hand that was on Ben's arm. He learned when dealing with a wild child, one less arm meant one less sets of punches to deal with.

"Don't play dumb with me," Ben scolded, "I know that you're up to something, and if you don't drop the bag now, I'm gonna spank your butt so hard, it'll turn red till next week AND I'll turn you into the guards." As Ben stared, he could see the kid's expression contort into something mixed with panic and anger. When Benjiro felt that he definitely was planning something, he added with a twist of the ear and the arm, "I'M WAITING." That seemed to do the trick as the kid immediately dropped the bag, but what the kid did next completely threw Benjiro off guard. Using the hand that was now free of the coins, the kid pulled out a knife from the folds of his clothing before stabbing full force Benjiro's left forearm.

In shock from the pain, Ben let go of the kid with a yell, allowing the kid to run away and disappear into the alleys. Immediately, Ben applied pressure onto the wound, frantically thinking about over what to do next. The stab wound was deep, probably deep to the bone. Additionally, it felt as if something was actually severed as he couldn't feel a few fingers. Oh, it also hurt, a lot. Though he felt it was his fault for pressuring the kid that far, Benjiro swore the next time he caught a pickpocket, he would bring them straight to the guards. That reminded him, did the kid leave behind the money? Fortunately for him, the coin pouch was still on the ground, and after recovering the pouch, Ben began sauntering off towards a medic, the blood dripping from the gaps of his fingers. As he did, he unknowingly passed by the stranger who tripped the pickpocket.

 

[Jasno]

Cordelia

Labyrinth

tags.

Parrot Parfait

location.

crowded plaza

outfit.

comfortable dress and dark colored cloak

Was that blood.. ? It was a stupid question as Cordelia could blatantly see streams of red flowing down the man's left forearm turning into droplets as they descended upon the ground. But it was just shocking to see such a thing happen before your own eyes. She had been watching since she had tripped the pickpocket. All the way up to when the little brat decided to pull out the knife stashed in his clothes and attack the person he stole from. The literal audacity to do that was appalling. This was partially her fault. Had she not tripped the thief the man would have never gotten stabbed. His money might have been stolen but at least he wouldn't have been stabbed. A feeling of regret penetrated her stomach. A small act of goodwill had turned into something so drastic. But a sudden thought made her re-examine that feeling. She could have never expected the pickpocket to wield a knife nor use it on someone.

The society she once came from was an advanced and safe one. Well as safe as it could be. There was no need to be a beggar on the streets when there were government agencies and programs to help with that. Healthcare and education were promoted among the people. Her world may have not been perfect but it sure as hell couldn't be compared to this one where people could harm each other without a blink of an eye. When the injured man began to pass by Cordelia she grabbed his arm. Not the bleeding one. "Let me help you. I'm not a professionally trained doctor or nurse but I know a little." Oops. Had she let some modern terms slip? Well, it was no matter. The man seemed like a native yet at the same time, his features were familiar. Her eyes narrowed. She'd think about it later. The Imperial Logia Academy of Ryken's library was extensive. It held knowledge upon knowledge on every shelf. Said knowledge also included medical-related things.

The more complex books were only reserved for upperclassmen like those in Class S or Class A. Still, Cordelia did what she could with the books that were accessible for her class. She removed his hand from the wound before taking out a handkerchief from her leather bag and pressing it down on the lesion. It might have been useless to do so when the man was already applying pressure to his injury but it was better than using your own hand no? "Press down hard. You can afford to lose much blood." He didn't look pale, clammy, or looked to show any signs of shock which was a good thing. Yet he still needed someone who was actually trained in this field to help which she wasn't. She unclasped her cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was a cold evening. He needed to be warm more than ever. "I'll be right back I'm going to try and find a doctor." Were they even called doctors in this world considering the time period? She didn't dwell on it too long and departed off into the crowd.

The majority of people near them had seen the fiasco take place but instead of helping kept to themselves. It was jarring to Cordelia however she knew why. The situation had turned dangerous. Many wouldn't risk their lives for a stranger they even knew existed. She wouldn't lie and say she wasn't like that also. Because she was. Only she was different from them. The pros and cons of a situation are what she considered. Not the fact that the people involved were strangers but the fact that there would have needed to be some benefit for her stepping in. In regards to what was happening now, she only engaged because of three factors. One, the brat with the weapon had fled. Two, the man with the injury had money. Three, she still felt somewhat guilty. Look factor two might appear terrible but when had she ever said she was that good of a person?

Finally, with the promise of some Rykes, she managed to lure a doctor out of the crowd and over to the man's who named she didn't know. Her eyes watched as they worked their magic. Oh, wait. Staring more intensely this time Cordelia eventually remembered why his characteristics were so familiar. East Asian features. From there it wasn't hard to put to and to together. "Anata wa chikyū kara kimashita ka?" It meant are you from earth? Her Japanese was truly rusty after not being spoken for a long too. Plus she had only begun learning a little in her past life when the revolution happened. That was probably even the most she could say. She hoped he wasn't too offended if he did know Japanese or was from another eastern country and knew Japanese.

Cordelia held back her urge to roll her eyes at the doctor who gave her a strange look at suddenly speaking a seemingly strange foreign language.

code: s e v e n
​

 

[Parrot Parfait]

Benjiro Ikeda

"Th-thank you..."
Interactions: Jasno
​

---

As Benjiro stormed off to who knows where, a hand suddenly grasped his arm. Ben jumped in slight surprise before checking who grabbed him. Upon seeing the young, beautiful woman, Ben froze in awe as his face began to flush.

"Let me help you. I'm not a professionally trained doctor or nurse but I know a little."

From her bag, the woman rummaged out a handkerchief. Upon realizing what she was going to do, Benjiro lifted his hand up from the wound. Immediately, blood began pouring out of the wound, but no sooner that it started, the woman quickly wrapped the cloth around cut very tightly. Admittedly it hurt like crazy, but Ben could bear it a little better in the presence of a kind lady. When she finished, the handkerchief was slowly staining red, but the temporary patch seemed to block the flow better than Ben's bare hand.

"Press down hard. You can afford to lose much blood."

Nodding and staring at the wound, Ben held down the wound and pressed against it hard. While it still stung, Ben now wouldn't have to worry about dying from blood loss anytime soon. As he looked back up, a still-warm cloak was already wrapped around him.

"I'll be right back I'm going to try and find a doctor."

Ben watched as the lady move into the crowd, and when she disappeared around the corner, Ben gazed blankly at that corner, dumbstruck over what just happened. That... was the nicest person that's attended to him since he's arrived here. Of course, the tavern-keeper was pretty nice, but this lady was on another level. If Benjiro had a free hand, he would have attempted to touch his cheeks to check how hot they were. Alas, he was still holding the wound, his right hand numb... Numb? Ben, upon noticing the numbness again, hesitantly moved his fingers, but much to his dismay, it seemed his left hand was largely unreceptive aside from a few twitches. Hopefully, that would be temporary.

As Ben was beginning to worry that something had happened to the lady, she soon appeared with a doctor in hand. The doctor, not liking their current venue, moved the group to a nearby tavern and then busily got to work on Ben's wound. As Ben was receiving the treatment, the woman suddenly spoke to him, saying:

"Anata wa chikyū kara kimashita ka?"

Immediately, Benjiro turned his head in surprise that she spoke Japanese. "You know my native language? ...and you also know about Earth?" After looking at the doctor who looked surprised at Ben's reaction, Ben then added, "Let's continue talking after I get stitched up." After he said that, the doctor continued, and when the treatment was finished, the doctor then told Ben the cost of the treatment. When Ben counted up the, he realized that the treatment costed nearly the amount the pickpocket had stolen from him. Begrudingly, Ben handed over the money, realizing that giving the money to the pickpocket would have probably been the better choice for both parties. After the doctor left, Ben signaled the woman to a more secluded area of the tavern before beginning his conversation.

"Who... are you?" Ben inquired, "And how do you know about Earth?" Ben had a look of puzzlement and curiosity on his face as he waited for the woman to respond.

 

[Jasno]

Cordelia

Labyrinth

tags.

Parrot Parfait Faynorae (Mentioned)

location.

loud and jovial tavern

outfit.

comfortable dress

The change in location from the cold crowded plaza to the warm tavern was very much appreciated. After all, Cordelia had given the man her cloak and that made her susceptible to the chill. She almost couldn't hide a smirk as she accurately struck the target. He was indeed from Earth. If she were the doctor she would probably be very confused right now. The natives here probably didn't have the word 'Earth' in their dictionaries or even heard of it at all. She nodded at his words. It was best to continue talking about matters such as these after this external factor had left. Yikes, the treatment cost was more than she excepted but it wasn't surprising considering how deep the injury appeared to be. Luckily it wasn't coming out of her pocket.

Cordelia allowed herself to be led into a more secluded area of the rowdy tavern. "That's a simple question really. I'm Cordelia. Cordelia Labyrinth. It's a pleasure to meet you." A small chuckle escaped her at the second question. "I've been there is all I can say." Was it vague and mysterious? Yes. Yet was that pretty much the truth? Yep, She had been there before and wasn't lying about it. But she wasn't about to spew out her entire life story to the man. The past.. it was too painful to reflect upon. She wasn't ready to entirely rip off the bandaid at this time. Nor did she think she'd be able to at any time. How should one deal with the shadowing scars of their past life?

But she wasn't going to be the only one questioned here. Nope, that wasn't going to fly. "What about you? I know for certain your Japanese but who are you?" Her tone was genuine. Cordelia was actually pretty curious about the man. "I'm pretty sure you aren't the only person from Earth here also. Did you see that girl back in the plaza with the thin clothing? Her dances and song are quite obviously not from Ryken. And I'm willing to bet that there isn't any nation in the world with such styles." As a former teenager from the 21st century and access to the internet, which she missed, by the way, anything pop culture-related would not go unnoticed by her.

code: s e v e n
​

 

[Faynorae]

Mentions: TheSimianMind , Novama ​

​

"H Rank Strength. Sha-la-la"
Ophenia barely expected much attention from her performance. But unlike what she had expected, she got a lot more money than she wanted. Astonished by the kind of full bucket, Ophenia tried lifting it with one hand. Now, you'd expect a dancer to be quite strengthy at least to the point at which they can lift some heavy things, but in both of Ophenia's lives, she was a needy and overly squeamish to pain person who always needed the help of the people around her. You'd think it'd change since she wasn't anywhere near human this time around but nope, she couldn't lift that bucket up even if it meant she'd die.

So using her other hand as well, she tried lifting it again. Failing miserably. The bucket's metallic handle had been conducting the icy cold of the winter's hue and Ophenia's hand began to sting. "Were coins always this heavy or am I just weak? oh my oh me..." Not wanting to bother anyone by asking for help, Ophenia dragged over the bucket slowly with both of her hands being tinged by the cold metal handle of the bucket. Very, very, very slowly. After what felt like hours of tedious incessant pulling and tugging Ophenia finally made it over to Michael.

With frostnip fingertips and an indent across the palms of her half-glove and non-half-glove, Ophenia lightly tapped on Michael's shoulder before noticing the two people talking to him. She doesn't usually resent people, and she doesn't normally complain much but probably due to her hatred towards being cold, dying plants and having to pull over a stupidly heavy bucket that shouldn't even be that heavy, her mind just slumped over. But needlessly complaining and whining to people she barely knows is quite un-befitting of her, so Ophenia put up her fakest smile in her arsenal, trying to hold back her whining tears from the pain of frosted fingertips.

With a bubbly tone, Ophenia interrupts the conversation with a boldly exclaimed: "Hello Humans~" before chipping down on her peppy tone, "So uh, Mikail, this is all your payment and your bucket and stuff, but like, could you tell me what is going on? Who're these people, are they fans or something-" At the thought that she made a new pair of fans, Ophenia suddenly got excited almost gasping way too loudly. "Oh. My. Eryngium. Are you guys fans?" Excitedly, she slightly pushed Michael away, holding the hands of the two people standing in front of him, "I am so glad to have you here! It's so nice to meet you too, I'm Ophenia! Well, my fanfare calls me by a kind of a longer name, that I don't really remember, but you can absolutely call me whatever you would like to~!" Ophenia's eyes twinkled for a response, her bitter mood washed away like seashells meeting the waves at the shore.

"So did you enjoy my performance~?"

 

[TheSimianMind]

[Castle] Ward: Clarice Gailingen​

Michael's unsightly belligerence is a far cry from the common courtesy socialized people of any class ought to extend to each other. Why, even the goody-two-shoes in the Adventurers' Guild treat Clarice more decently, though their interactions have been exceedingly limited of late. This bodyguard, clutching the hilts of his two shortswords with, in Clarice's opinion, the white-knuckled tenacity of a teary-eyed toddler clinging to his mother's skirt, perplexes and chafes her, for divested of a proper henchman's costume, Clarice does not fancy herself a remarkably intimidating individual. By her estimation, the phrase "slightly disconcerting" describes her bearing to a tee whenever she opts exercise her powers. Aside from the boozer who insists she is the devil come to drag him down to hell and consequently lobs glass bottles at her from the alley adjacent to Murt's Bar and Grill, folks rarely react this violently to her appearance. Perhaps she's scarier than she thought! Boy, that'd be sweet!

Still, Clarice maintains that neither her conduct, politely requesting an introduction to another lady, nor her appearance, chiefly her abyssal eyes, warrant the implicit threats Michael openly levies against her. If he means to bully and impede her based on the color of her eyes or her maritime attire, he should vituperate her with a discursive onslaught of oaths and slurs that would make a mule-driver blush instead of merely threatening to slice her to ribbons with an expertly executed flurry of blows. That would be much more acceptable to Clarice since she would be able to merrily respond in kind. She could cook up some zingers about Michael's affinity for snow in a jiffy. Offended, Clarice mimics Michael's actions, curling her gloved fingers around the hilts of her imaginary shortswords and ripostes.

Look at me! I own this public thoroughfare! I'm not a guard, and I'll happily cut down unarmed women and children if they look at me funny! I'll be in town until the Festival of Pipes is over, then I'm retreating into the woods with a few scores of friends to waylay helpless travelers and raze farmsteads! Whoopee!

That's you. That's how you're behaving. Absolutely disgraceful.

As the inky blackness bleeds from Clarice's narrowed eyes and they revert to their normal hue, she turns her attention to Barnem Pipes. Her feelings for him are no warmer than her feelings for Michael. A cold, cutting edge tinges Clarice's voice as she lambastes him with all of the vitriol she can muster.

As for you, how can you call yourself a gentleman? You approach an armed man menacing a lady and you don't even bat an eyelash. You don't ask what's going on. You just let it happen.

She points at the elderly gent accusatorially.

There's not a jot of noblesse oblige in you, is there? Then you are a leech, Barnem Pipes, sucking the lifeblood from starry-eyed youths to sustain yourself.

Finding Barnem's inaction more inexcusable than Michael's threats, Clarice chooses to glower at him with such intensity that he would surely writhe, wither, and die on the spot if there was a single mote of magic bolstering Clarice's malice. There is something wrong with Barnem - Clarice is convinced of that much. Well-adjusted people don't just waltz right up to people threatening others with weapons and pretend that nothing is amiss.

Then, Ophenia bounds up and seizes Clarice's hand. Clarice is so fixated on glaring and hissing at Barnem, that she is caught completely off-guard. Reflexively, she wrenches her gloved hand away and shouts.

YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE, YOU - you...

Oh, that is just peachy! This is the one person she genuinely wants to converse with. Okay. You can recover from this.

*Ahem.*

Hail, Ophenia. [DeliveredWithTheSubtletyOfASledgehammer] Your performance reminded me of, uh, that one, I mean, those two performers who are all the rage overseas: Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. They're animal-themed singers who were trained by Batman. Their music is as otherworldly as yours.

I'm China Japan, by the way. [/DeliveredWithTheSubtletyOfASledgehammer]

Oof.

 

[Parrot Parfait]

Benjiro Ikeda

"So... you're also from Earth...?"
Interactions: Jasno
​

---

"That's probably the case..." Benjiro agreed. He was about to mention Asuga but decided against telling since he didn't quite trust Cordelia that much. Instead, Benjiro added, "That singer's style was certainly... interesting." As he recalled that performance, memories of his younger days resurfaced, making him blush a bit.

"Ah," Ben interjected, "I completely forgot my manners haven't I?" Ben then stood up and then gave a small bow. "My name is Benjiro Ikeda, please to make your acquaintance, Labyrinth-san." After giving his short introduction, Ben immediately sat back down with a smile before continuing.

"So, about myself. Before I came to this world, I was actually a farmer. Since I privately owned the land, I mainly worked with high-value crops since I could never compete growing high-volume crops like rice. Doesn't pay as much as you'd think, but it was still a nice profession. How about you, Labyrinth-san? What was your profession before coming to this world?" Benjiro wasn't the only curious one.

 

[Faynorae]

Mentions: TheSimianMind , Novama
​

"キラ☆キラ"What a relief, a simple name to remember for once, was the first thought that went through Ophenia's mind, as she instantly forgot the name of the lady who answered.

"My oh my! You've been overseas? There are more people who can sing and dance like this~?" Ophenia's pupils widened a bit, as she let go of Clarice's hands. "A Mouse and a duck? Foreigners have quite the odd set of performers! That must be so exciting~ I wish I could've been trained by a bat too!" Ophenia's bubbliness was enough to almost rub off onto people who could easily interpret others' emotions. Some may even find it overly annoying. But the thought that her style of music wasn't overly out there and way too weird relieved her. Maybe her dreams wouldn't be that outlandish after all?

Quickly she turned back to the odd lady "Happiness and smiles to you, Miss Chipan Naja, it's so wonderful to make your acquaintance! I hope you continue to support me in the future! ❤" Ophenia said while smiling widely. After her interaction with Clarice, she quickly turned to the other humanoid, Barnem Pipes. "Greetings human!" Despite choosing to be a performer who sings for mostly human audiences, Ophenia was very oblivious and ignorant of the hierarchy of humans. As such, she just treats all humans the same. Fortunately, she hasn't encountered snobbish and/or arrogant nobles, but this may be to her detriment this time around.

"Apologies for my rudeness, for my attention had been averted. My name is Ophenia, it is so nice to meet you! What is it that you need?"

 

[Novama]

Time: 4:10 pm
Weather: cold, slight breeze
Mentions: TheSimianMind Parrot Parfait Faynorae Jasno
TLDR: Ophenia gets her pipes and is acknowledged as a young contender in the annual hall of pipes pageant. Michael goes his own way for the time being.

Downtown Square

Clarice's tirade had garnered the group some glances, but otherwise, Ophenia and the rest were left to continue sorting out their own affairs. Ophenia's quick interception ensured things didn't escalate any further. While Michael wasn't cowed by Clarice's display, Barnem Pipes was clearly taken aback.

Barnem Pipes was a jolly looking man. He was pleasantly plump and had white running through his otherwise dark hair that was long and naturally wavy. He wore a few layers of loose fitting clothes patterned in various colors that did not draw the eye but was a feast for those more observant. The colors of his robes came together in a way to create the semblances of many animals and instruments among a starry night sky backdrop. His shoes were the sort that needed buckled, but his girth suggested someone else helped him with them. Unlike his cloak which was clear of the sloshy ground, his shoes showed signs of being warn around the festival as opposed to a pair that knew nothing but carriage rides. Further adding to his eccentric air was the lack of guards or entourage. A man of a "Pipes" status would have wisdom dictate some protection was appropriate, but he was alone, as far as the group could discern.

Pipes rosy cheeks grew more red in response to Clarice's berating. It was unclear if he was embarrassed or irritated by the accusations. He looked ready to leave the scene immediately, however. The large man put the group to his back and was starting to wade through the cross traffic of people moving through the plaza when Ophenia kept her time with Clarice short so as to get to Barnem quickly. She was lucky. Her call to Barnem made the large man spin like one dancing to the sound of Ophenia's voice. Truly an eccentric man in specific areas.

"Young miss, Ophenia. Pardon my sudden introduction. My name is Barnem Pipes of the Hall of Pipes Music and Performance Hall. I had the pleasure and surprise of witnessing your performance on my festival stroll this afternoon. Truly inspiring. Your voice is full of potential and has a nice sound. Your lyrics are new and fresh. The magical musical accompaniment is a nice touch and further lends to the overall entertainment package you offer. What's more, you appearance in this frosty weather further illustrates your commitment to the craft and helps expand your range of influence and charisma. You have the stage presence that commands the eye. Very good, yes."

Barnem's deep voice continued to ramble incoherently as his beady eyes, filled with mirth, eyed Ophenia up and down like a sculptor eyeing a near perfect slab of marble.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you have more pressing matters than to listen to this old man. I'll cut to the chase: I'd like to invite you to perform at this years Hall of Pipes Winter Pageant,"

His meaty hand reached into his cloak and pulled a silver medal from some inner pocket. The medal was shaped into several horns, all of which seemingly trumpeting the arrival and greatness of the wearer. Barnem's sausage fingers passed the pin off to Ophenia. It was warm to the touch despite being metal in freezing weather.

"Unfortunate that this is all I can offer at this time. I already have too many performers sponsored, personally. My hope is that you'll take this opportunity and earn yourself a sponsor among those attenting the pageant. Good luck to you, dear girl."

Michael​

The snow stopped. Michael's service to Ophenia stopped as well. The cold didn't get any better. It actually felt even colder as they day wore on. Michael let go of his swords to catch the pail handed to him by Ophenia is exchange for protecting her that day. It was not nearly as heavy as she made it seem, but there were plenty of Rykes inside. Michael was surprised and a bit concerned when he saw the total. He already noted there had been pickpockets among the crowd today. It would not be unusual for something to befall Michael before he could safely store the coins away somewhere. Slicking his hair back one last time due to snow and melting ice, Michael got himself sorted for travel and shifted the bucket to a more easily carried position.

Done with Clarice and conveniently paid, pushed aside, and forgotten by Ophenia, Michael decided it was time to get out of the cold.

"Pleasure doing business with you,"

Michael said out loud, uncertain if anyone actually heard him. His annoyance was subtle but noticeable as he left the plaza. Keeping one hand on a sword hilt and the other on the bucket of rykes, Michael made his way to the lower levels of the city closer to the waterways and the main gates out of town. The Rykes would put a target on his back and he knew it. He needed to spend it quickly.

The various stalls and vendors that came for the holiday season were flush in good foods and interesting trickets and clothes. Michael made sure to spend extravagantly on some good food, basic necessities, and a few nicer items. He was also quick to exchange smaller denominations of rykes for bigger ones for those that offered to do that for him. He did not want to go to a money exchange. They would usually scrape some fee off that top for the service. At least by doing it through the vendors he was buying from, he could ensure he was getting something out of it.

Once Michael had reduced the coin count by enough that the remainder would fit in his personal coin pouch comfortably, he ditched the bucket by one of the stalls and quickly made his way to the next business he wished to deal with before they closed for the day: The Adventurer's Guild of Ryke - Ryken Branch.

The End​

 

[Novama]

Isekai Hell RP Grade
A nice little winter outing. The beginning and middle of the rp were the strongest parts as the characters worked together to bring the scene to life. There were a few issues of auto-hitting and godmodding that probably shouldn't have happened, but overall, everything was generally pleasant to read. Additionally, goal of the rp was achieved.

Aftermath
Ophenia was able to get acknowledged for her talents by one of the greatest supporters of the performing arts in the city.
Benjiro will eventually heal up from his wound although most of his money was now gone.

Rewards
Michael - 28points (with narration bonus)

Ophenia - 19 points - acquired optional title [Hall of Pipes Participant] and ITEM [Hall of Pipes Silver Pin] - character has a silver badge/pin of horns that designates them as a possible participant in the annual Hall of Pipes Winter Show. They have been acknowledged as having special performing talents worth a grand stage. Rp'er has the right to run or include character in rp's pertaining to the Winter Show, Barnem Pipes, or other notable npcs/settings specific to Hall of Pipes title.

Benjiro - 21 points - acquired optional title [Destitute] - Character has lost most or all of their loose change. Causes the character to give off an air of poverty and need. Character can now beg for coins in populated areas and get enough to meet basic needs: food/water/shelter, so long as title is equipped.

Clarice - 21 points - acquired optional title [Scowler] - Character will typically have a resting face that looks like an intense scowl and give off an aura that makes people less likely to interact with her unprompted. Works for good and bad interaction chance reduction.

Cordelia - 18 points - acquired optional title [Opportunist] - Character is watchful for and more easily picks up on 'opportunities'. Generally the opportunities help the character achieve a desired outcome. Opportunities typically come with some risk but if they work out, they can avoid some hassle or other major setback.