Sleuth!! The Ryuseki Newspaper Detective?!

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

Who: Mitsuya, open
What: Mitsuya is nosy.
When: The day after the magic incident, a bit after school.
Where: Ryuseki hallways.



Mitsuya's brief visit to the club she occasionally called home had left her in despair (at least, as much despair as she could be in, which wasn't much). As she saw it, her mission was to entertain and illuminate, to give people a taste of something apart from their dreary lives, not to elucidate more of that dreaded drudgery.

But Shinozaki-san had threatened to pull her column altogether if she refused the assignment, so to her dismay, she was stuck with it, and it with her. The thought hung over her like a nearly literal cloud.

But she was not one to sink into despair for long, and halfway to her locker, she'd figured out what she needed to brighten her spirits: an adventure. A new place to explore. Somewhere with an air of mystery, where rumors circulated like the wind.

She knew just the place.

Comments

[thebardinator.insanejournal.com]

Opening the scroll would result in more than Mitsuya could probably imagine. It wasn't just mystery, or subtle nuances of dubious supernatural quality (debatable by even the more skeptic mind.)

A word appeared on the scroll, written by purple flame in elegant and colorful kanji.
HELLO,
YOU HAVE CHOSEN THE SCROLL OF SWIFT INITIATION

In a smaller text:

CONGRATULATIONS on picking this scroll. While many would spend years upon years seeking the wisdom from within to find enlightenment, we are proud to facilitate you with an easier, more comfortable way to open your eyes to the unknown and see the flow of the powers arcane.

A soft humm filled the air.

Prepare for the experience.

The experience in question was a sudden urge to sneeze, followed by a feeling like someone had punched Mitsuya right in the face.

1/2

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

"Powers arca--?"

Re: 1/2

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

The affronted yelp that ensued was easily audible from downstairs, if not the new building itself.

Mitsuya clapped her hands over her mouth swiftly, eyes darting around both in embarrassment at that little outburst and apprehension that someone might find her. When she was sufficiently reassured that no one had been summoned up to the room (waiting far less time than she ought, to be sure), she left one hand to nurse her achy face and the other to pick up the scroll that had so unceremoniously enlightened her.

Enlightened? She wasn't sure she felt (more) enlightened, but she was yet a neophyte in the ways of magic, after all.

Magic. What a remarkable thought. Not at all what she had expected such mundane surroundings to be hiding.

Re: 1/2

[thebardinator.insanejournal.com]

Two things would occur thus:

First, nothing.

Then, something. That something could have been confused with 'nothing', as Mitsuya would probably imagine that the little lights she saw in the air were just the result of her brain being shaken by the force of the impact on her face... But they weren't the typical hallucinations born from migraine. No, these...

These were organized. They were patterns. Nay, threads... woven and shining in iridescent colors, like a spider web. She saw them crossing the room, through the air, and gathering around the door. It would cause her a little headache, should she pay a lot of attention to them, but... she could almost see the pale image, like a blinking light, of some sort of test. Runes. Certainly not kanji. And even more strange, she would, if she focused, be able to translate them.

They read in words that spoke to the little girl inside her... words that the adult, concrete, mechanical mind would have trouble swallowing, but the child within could read easily. They were abstract. They were... not a command, but a suggestion, repeating itself over and over.


"Ignore."
"Look away."
"Ignore."
"You have other things to do."
"Ignore."
"You should be somewhere else."
"Ignore."
"Ignore."
"Ignore."

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

The very complexity itself was beautiful. Spellbinding, even, if the audience will forgive the turn of phrase. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen, and she had seen a good many things even in her young life.

Her fingertips reached out to brush against the airy characters, and passed through them as if through air, a faint tingle the only trace they'd left--and she was certain that had she not seen through the spell, whether it had been through her knowledge it was there or her 'enlightenment' a moment ago, there would not even have been that. Everything about this gossamer web strung through the air and her mind was nothing if not subtle.

But, she recalled with a pang of regret, she would have no time to study it now. The gentleman with the phone would be returning, and there had been something about guards... Into her bag went the scroll of enlightenment, along with a few others, whichever ones her hand landed on, and a few objets d'art that jostled against her books.

It would have to do for now. But she would return, for certain.

[thebardinator.insanejournal.com]

That's when Mitsuya felt something. Heard something. The problem was the combination that she felt a shudder going through the wood and HEARD a growl outside.

A low, guttural voice, as only possibly made (in the realm of logical biology) by a being with a very large ribcage, shouted in menace. "IS SOMEONE THERE...?!"

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

Mitsuya hastily shut her bag, and slowly, inch by inch, her head craned around to see what was causing the sudden ruckus.

That had been a very loud voice. And perhaps Mitsuya's mind just might have been running in generally supernaturally-based directions right now, but it didn't quite sound human--it was too harsh, too deep.

At any rate, it could not possibly bode well.

She hurried to her feet, torn between curiosity and self-preservation. The latter tended to fare poorly in these conflicts, however...

[thebardinator.insanejournal.com]

Simple reason would tell her that the increasing force of the vibrations on the floor meant that a pair of feet were getting closer, faster. If she peeked out the hallway, she would see something... a shadow of something very large about to turn the corner. It didn't look human, but squat, and scary, with horns...

"IF THERE IS SOMEONE THERE, I AM GOING TO FIND YOU, I SWEAR..." the voice continued, before adding, with unusual sophistication, "AND I'M GOING TO BE VERY CROSS, INDEED."

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

The shadow looked like... an oni? Or perhaps some variety of Western ogre. It was far more intelligent than she would expect either to be, whichever it was. It was rather difficult to tell from a silhouette, but just peering around the door couldn't hurt, surely?

Then again, it could hurt her. And without knowing the layout of the building, her options for escape were distressingly few. The window? She eyed it a little doubtfully. It was far from ideal, but it would be a satisfying continuation of this supernatural espionage she seemed to be doing.

The window strained and groaned at the unexpected force (little though it was) suddenly being put on it, and Mitsuya herself strained against its stubbornness. All the while, her eyes kept flicking back to the door, half-hoping and half-fearing that the oni-ogre-creature would beat her to the punch.

Maybe it could be negotiated with?

[thebardinator.insanejournal.com]

"I SMELL A HUMAN..." the voice growled, distinctly closer to the door. "IF I GET YOU, I'M GOING TO TAKE YOUR GUTS OUT AND WEAR IT AS A SCARF... BECAUSE THAT COLOR IS IN THIS SEASON," said the voice.

The window cracked a little, raising a few inches off the frame. It certainly looked like it would need a little extra force to open...!

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

"I think they may be a little pale for that."

Not that Mitsuya wanted her guts used as any sort of clothing at all. They were serving their function perfectly well inside her body, after all. But she couldn't resist engaging this being in conversation, although (or perhaps, in some small part, because?) it was trying to change that satisfactory state of affairs.

She did still have enough sense, nonetheless, to keep working at that window. It would be an unpleasant drop, if it came to that, but one did what one must to survive.

[thebardinator.insanejournal.com]

No sooner was she done talking that the door finally snapped open, and so it was that the monster, three feet tall and squat like a bulldog that had been left too long under an anvil, entered. The shadow had been a game of perspective.

The dwarf ogre, however, looked very pissed, which did very little to make up for the fact the azure-skinned, big-toothed, yellow monster was in a dandy little security outfit. His hair was also gelled and combed.

"AHAH. TALKING BACK TO AN ADULT. YOU ARE A VERY IMPOLITE YOUNG LADY, YOU KNOW THAT?" it said, brandishing a crowbar that was about as long as it stood tall.

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

It was actually... cute, in its own way, Mitsuya decided. Much smaller than its voice seemed to indicate, and embodying a fascinating cross between brutality and civilization. She had no doubt that it could and would use that crowbar on her to great effect if provoked to do so. All the more reason to have an escape ready.

"Why, I simply wanted to offer some *grunt* sartorial advice. Surely you *oof* agree that a richer red would bring out your *nngh* skin tone?" It wasn't quite open enough for her, but it was enough to slip her bag through, which she did. Hopefully she hadn't packed in anything fragile.

[thebardinator.insanejournal.com]

"I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW I AM VERY FASHION AWARE, AND I THINK THAT MUTED COLORS ARE THE SAFER CHOICE THIS SUMMER."

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

"All the more reason to-- stand out--!" One good, forceful pull, and the window had scraped upward another inch or so. "Better to flatter your own assets, and have others follow in your footsteps. Perhaps a fresh blood or muscle red?"

[thebardinator.insanejournal.com]

The small lowered its head in thought. "HRMM. MAYBE. BUT I THOUGHT THAT THERE WAS SOMETHING TO BE SAID ABOUT A MODEST PALETTE. KIDNEY BROWN WAS VERY IN LAST OCTOBER--"

You cannot fool even the dumbest creature too long. "HEY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOU'RE TRYING TO GET AWAY, AREN'T YOU? I'LL *MAKE* A FASHION STATEMENT OUT OF YOU!"

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

Oops. And she had so been enjoying this. She eyed the window; it was narrow, but probably just enough for her to slip out. Quickly might be another matter entirely...

"Ah, well, perhaps we'll be able to continue this discussion under better circumstances later." One foot through the window. "Do at least consider some brighter accents, won't you?"

Both feet through, aaaand let go. This could be unpleasant.

[quitethetyrant.insanejournal.com]

But thank goodness for that disciplinarian that just so HAPPENED to be leaping out of a window right below Mitsuya at the same time.

Takeo fell with an undignified, high-pitched shriek, going face first on the dirt, making the sound that he now produced automatically whenever he was hit by anything large enough at breakneck speed. "OUBAI--IIIEEEE--OOF!!"

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

Oh. That had been a surprisingly soft landing. Oddly pointy in places, though. Too large to be her bag...

She risked a glance beneath her, and found that one question had been answered, opening up a host of others at the same time. Her favorite kind of answer. "Why, fancy meeting you here, Akiyama-sama. Have you come to investigate the school's mysteries as well? I assure you, however many you think there are, it has many more than that." She beamed at him, though being face-down, he would probably be unable to see it. Oh well.

[quitethetyrant.insanejournal.com]

Takeo was smushed against the ground by the highschool journalist, who had fallen from the one story above just as he'd broken out of a window, gashing his arm in the process, after hearing a mysterious voice. All in all - thought the twitching tyrant - there was no better time for this than any other.

Without looking up, he reached into the pocket of his pants, took out a smartphone that was one generation old (but looked brand new) and, after blindly fumbling for some command that he apparently had learned by heart, so much that muscle memory served him well with no need to look, he pressed a button and played a loud.

"WA-WA-WA-WA." (http://www.instantsfun.es/sadtrombone)

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

Mitsuya was at once quietly impressed at Takeo's devotion to his particular brand of humor, and suddenly acutely aware of the situation they'd ended up in. She rolled onto the grass and picked herself up, grabbing her bag as well with a swooping motion that allowed a scroll up near the top to fly out and hit the wall without her notice.

"I'm terribly sorry about the landing, but when one is confronted by a miniature crowbar-wielding ogre, one does what one must."

Though she'd dipped into an apologetic bow, she was, she had to admit, still a bit giddy from the events upstairs. She was looking forward to getting home, blogging, and investigating the matter further. She wondered if she might encounter anything else on her way back...

[quitethetyrant.insanejournal.com]

Takeo was truly devoted to his humor, so much that he didn't have any strength to talk back, or even ask for help. He lifted up a hand, in what briefly looked like a plea for a helpful lift off the ground, but then his fingers wrapped up except one.

Just the index one, don't be silly.

If there was something Takeo did very well, it was this gesture. It was powerful in his pale hands. "I... accuse," he managed, before his arm flopped down.

[ephemeralcolor.insanejournal.com]

Unfortunately for poor Takeo, the power of his lifted finger would go unappreciated (except, perhaps, by Tsuchi), for Mitsuya was already gone. She had a bad habit of disappearing even at the best of times, and when she had something like this to occupy her mind...

Well, no doubt there would be other times for Takeo to play Zola.

[shiftingseas.insanejournal.com]

This moment of conversation had left Tsuchi with a few moments in which to climb gently out the window. He held the frame rather tightly - glancing with worry at the distance to the ground - but let his feet drop to the floor when he came to hear the sound of back-breaking pain below.

Nothing happened then - only a few occasions passed for a few musical phone calls. Which of course he kept watching. And his eyes followed the girl they'd been chasing as she left. But he was by then more worried about his friend on the floor. He began to feel like a nurse.

"Come on. We have to get you looked at or something," he said, expression turning from fretful to worried. He thought they ought to get at least some disinfectant or something.

So he offered a lifting hand. By the time he was finally convinced his friend was standing and stable on his feet, he went to pick up what Mitsuya had dropped, holding it under his arm first, and then finally with both hands. He was intent on handing it over for inspection before returning it later.

[quitethetyrant.insanejournal.com]

Takeo didn't reject the help. With a grunt, and a quiet, though sincere apology, he also took the chance to nudge Tsuchi away a little from being right outside the window, lest whoever was looking for them would peek out...

"Mmhm. Yeah... the nurse should have some medicine. I think, I hope. The principal doesn't go cheap on those..." he said, eyes finally landing on the object Tsuchi had picked up... What a strange thing. "Looks rather antique," he said, "and out of place for a school..." he added, limping ahead a few steps, but keeping side by side with Tsuchi.