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Reverse Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Guardians of Erebus



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Rydia says...



Marala Sindhu
Erebus |March 18, 2016 | 4:05 PM


As the very nice man introduced them to all the wonderful lords and ladies of the house, Ducky tried ever so hard to pay attention but there was a music in the air which she simply could not ignore. The sound of it was like nothing she'd ever heard, not since waking up in the playground, perhaps not even since before. It was slow but so striking, so smooth and insistently flowing, like- like-

But Ducky did't have the words to say what it was like.

Then there was a change in the tempo - another one - and the very nice man was introducing them to the lady Hekate who was certainly the most wonderful of all the ladies of the house! She descended the staircase to the sound of a new instrument and her black gown slid gracefully over the steps, so that Ducky found herself watching it all the way to the floor and only then looked up in absolute awe at its owner.

“Good evening. You must pardon the extravagant reception, as you are the first official guests we’ve ever had. I don’t usually wear ball gowns and jewellery, but I certainly could not welcome you in casual clothing.”

“Oh, are we under-dressed?” Ducky asked. Afterall, they were still wearing the clothes they had woken up in and as soft as her red jumper was, it probably wasn't what you wore when listening to such beautiful music and standing in such a grand hall.

Fortunately the nice lady didn't think they were under-dressed and she took them on a splendid, wonderful tour of the castle and answered lots of questions - and even gave them names! - and then invited them to supper! Ducky, that is Marala, could not have been happier as she dropped into a chair at the table between Yi-Ze and Jeremiah.

"Do you think they have any Indian food? I expect I'll like that best, though I'm not entirely sure what it is but it seems like we'd probably like the food from the places we come from, right? And candyfloss, though I'm not entirely sure that it's Indian!"

"Maybe," Yi-Ze replied as she looked at the large array of dishes in front of them. "Does... does it bother you that we don't know our own languages?"

Marala thought about that for a moment as she started loading her plate with anything and everything, but she stopped when she realised it did. "Oh. It does, I think. I guess Archibald didn't know what our languages sound like but that's kind of sad, maybe we'll have to learn them all over again. I expect we'll be good at that, don't you think?"

"Of course," Yi-Ze replied but she didn't quite meet Marala's eyes and it felt like maybe that wasn't what she had meant to say. Or maybe not what she should have said, or something. It was kind of hard to figure out what people meant when you were looking at them through someone's else's memories of how people should be.

"We'll work it out," Marala promised. Then they ate and they talked, though Jeremy seemed very lost in his own world and didn't actually respond to anything they said but Marala figured he was just enjoying the listening part of the conversation.

"Well we'll see you later!" Marala declared as she got up from the table and turned to the lady who had offered to show them where their rooms were. "You know, it's so nice of you to show us where we're going to sleep and to get us clothes and to do all these things for us. My memory of ladies suggests that they're very important and so I didn't expect you'd be so helpful as well!"

"Ladies, miss?" The lady shook her head and gave a small laugh and then quickly covered her mouth. "Sorry, I shouldn't laugh - I beg your pardon, but I'm not a lady."

"You aren't?" Yi-Ze asked, her brow creased slightly in confusion. "Are you a gentleman then?"

"Well no, I'm a woman, but a 'lady' suggests someone of higher birth, like Lady Hekate," the woman explained.

"Oh- so only orphans are ladies, I understand now." Marala smiled and since they had reached the second bedroom, she entered and turned quickly on the spot, her eyes growing wider at every new detail in the room. "Wow! Look at the paintings! And the beds - they have roofs! And look at all these things on this dresser, are they for us?"

"It's lovely, thank you," Yi-Ze agreed. The woman looked like she wanted to say more but she lowered her head and simply wished them a good evening and repeated Lady Hekate's words that they could call on her if there was anything they needed.

Marala bounced on to one of the beds and ran her fingeres over the thick embroidery of the beautiful, shimmering green bedspread. Then she pulled out the questionnaire which had been returned to her and began to read all of the comments on it.

"Do you think we should read them out aloud? Apparently I should like the meaning of my name but since I don't know any Indian, I suppose I'll have to ask Hekate about it tomorrow."

"I'd rather not," Yi-Ze said. "Read them aloud, I mean. I hope you don't mind, I hope it isn't rude of me to-"

"I don't mind," Marala broke in. "I suppose we should get ready for bed, these clothes and things must be- oh! Take a look at these!" Marala moved the two sets of pajamas aside and uncovered two dictionaries, one in Indian and one in Chinese. "I think these are dictionaries and there's one for each of us. I think maybe I'm going to look up what my name means, here you should look too, but for your name instead of mine because I don't think Marala would be in a Chinese dictionary."

Marala turned the pages eagerly to the letter M and searched down the page but her enthusiasm fell as she found words like 'Masala' but no sign of her actual name. "I can't find it. I guess maybe names aren't in dictionaries - are you having any better luck? Maybe Hekate spelled it wrong and she meant Massala, which means spicy, but I don't think I want that to be my name."
Writing Gooder

~Previously KittyKatSparklesExplosion15~

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BrumalHunter says...



Hekate
Erebus, Second Floor Corridor | March 19th, 2016 | 6:59 AM


“Are you ready, Samuel?”

“I am, my lady, but I feel obliged to urge you one last time to reconsider such drastic means of waking our guests.”

Hekate considered it, looking at the doors of the rooms around her. Having the staff quietly enter the new residents’ rooms and gently bring them back from the realm of sleep would be the courteous thing to do, but she wanted to shatter her noblewoman façade in as spectacular a fashion as possible. (As if her revertion to black jeans, black top and black leather jacket wouldn’t do that already.)

“Usually, I’d agree, since I know I would be pissed if I was one of them, but if I don’t use this opportunity now, while they are still new here, it will be lost forever. You may go ahead in-” she checked her watch, “-nine seconds. I’ll deal with the consequences.”

The butler ceased shaking his head and sighed. Raising a remote, he said, “My apologies, ladies and gentlemen.”

Spoiler! :
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Several cries, as well as an infuriated “The hell?!”, emitted from the closest rooms. Though the guests in the west wing were a reasonable distance away, their exclamations could also be heard.

Marala popped out of her door first, yelling to be heard over the music. “What a frightening song! Hekate, are we under attack? Should we fight back, or are you warning us to retreat to the bunker? I’ve been awake for a few minutes and didn’t see anybody approaching, but I could have been-”

Jeremiah’s door slammed open, revealing a seriously irked individual. “Damn it, Hekate!” he shouted. “What was that for?”

Yi-Ze peeked out behind Marala. “What’s going on?” The music quiteted down a bit, allowing them to hear the girl despite her soft tone.

Hekate grinned sheepishly. “That was the first of many pranks to come. Not a very good one, obviously, but if I had pulled a stunt like this after you had settled in, I’d be a super jerk.”

“Like you aren’t one now?” Andrew asked, appearing behind her. He looked as bad-tempered as usual, except he was justified, for once.

Before she could reply, Samuel leaned slightly closer and said, “I believe you deserved that one, my lady.”

“Yeah, I totally do.” She addressed Andrew, who stood with crossed arms. “But my excuse is that I’ve never had the opportunity to startle somebody awake with music before. Oh, and it’s also to banish some of your assumptions about me.” As more sleepy stragglers appeared, muttering and moaning, she clasped her hands and shook them enthusiastically. “Good, you’re all here! For the record, yesterday was a tick off my bucketlist: be regal for a day. In reality, I’m fun-loving and adventurous and not at all prissy and stuff. I also hate high heels.”

“Is that why you’re wearing normal clothing?” Basil asked, who looked like he’d been awake for hours already.

“Pretty much.”

“So what you really mean to say,” Jeremiah accused, “is that you played us?”

Hekate turned her head ninety degrees counter-clockwise so she could see the speaker. “If that’s how you wish to perceive it, love, then yes. Either way, you’re fully aware of my standard dress code and mischievious streak now, so make of it what you will. If anybody has checked the time, you’ll see it’s seven, which means breakfast. Dress and eat in any order you like, but be finished by eight. I have some stylists coming in, so what you decide to wear won’t matter; they’ll sort everything out. Once they’re done, I’ll take your pictures and get your documents ready.” Oh Fortuna climaxed. “And please don’t hate the song just because I used it for my own devious amusement!” she called. “This is actually the best part! It’s often used in some dramatic sequence, like before an explosion or something. It’s the ominous Latin chanting, you see. People go crazy over it, even though it’s sort of clichéd!”

Samuel shook his head. “I apologise for my mistress’ poor taste in humour! Ordinarily, the worst we have to endure are her horrible puns!”

She chuckled and punched the butler on the arm. Looking at the gathered guests, she added, “Don’t listen to him - my puns are the best on the dark web!” She mock-curtsied, shooting Marala a concealed wink, causing the girl to giggle. “Anyway, see you downstairs!” She spun on her heel and headed down the gilded staircase, Samuel following in discomfiture.

If the castle’s newest occupants had thought they would be residing in the same boring structures Zeus saw whenever he looked at images of the European variety, they were sorely mistaken. She grinned. They had no idea how much madness she had in store for them...


Erebus, Second Floor Corridor | March 19th, 2016 | 7:32 AM
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

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TheSilverFox says...



Jeremiah Smith
Bedroom #5, Second Floor| March 19th, 2016 | 7:00 AM


Today, he learned that he hated being woken up early in the morning.

There was something infuriating in learning that Hekate that manipulated all of them the previous day. Of course, it wasn’t as though this entire mansion was a trap, or she was a vile murderer, or that he was in any way in harm’s way. In comparison to his fears, this just seemed annoying. Still, that she had acted so regal and graceful earlier, in spite of a few eerie comments, and had overnight switched into a true personality that was unlike what he had seen, made him feel stupid. Stupid that he had fallen for such a ruse. Stupid that was now stuck here with a prankster who sense of jokes involved playing loud music early in the morning and bad puns, apparently. Jeremiah was not a fun-loving, adventurous man – both were too reckless and audacious for his tastes, besides being irritating for him. And now he was stuck with somebody who was incredibly so, and would likely pull him into dangerous situations for the sake of it. Joy.

Still, he had an hour to do what he needed to do and eat, so he slammed the door behind him. First, he showered, though he spent a few minutes dousing himself in cold water while he tried to figure out how the faucet worked. As his choice of clothing didn’t matter, and he didn’t have anything else to wear (beyond the tight-fitting bathing suit he’d found yesterday before he went to the pool, though his swimming for an hour or so had left it with a few small tears), he put on his drab outfit from the previous day. It looked faded and ugly in this room, to his disappointment. On the bright side, he felt and smelled clean, and so all he needed to do was rearrange his bedsheets, use the razor blade in the bathroom to remove his stubble (without, as the cliché goes, cutting himself), and exit his room.

Light from the morning sun poured into the expansive open foyer and grand room as he retracted his steps, he again admiring the beautiful frescoes and smooth floors and railings. Naturally, he was distracted enough to nearly fall down several steps, but composed himself enough to carry on. A man he talked to briefly told him that it was half past seven, so he brought his memories of yesterday to the forefront of his mind and let them guide him towards wherever the kitchen was.

The massive doors were open once again, and the kitchen was as beautiful and dignified as ever. Light streamed in from behind Isaiah as he stood by the doorway and watched the small gathering of residents of the mansion. There were fewer attendants than in the previous day, and the table had been repurposed to hold a buffet. Naturally, even the buffet was impressive enough – rich pastries, an assortment of fruits (including a cut-up watermelon), various kinds of meats, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, breakfast sandwiches, and even some boxes of cereal. Jeremiah stood for a few more seconds, taking in all the sights and wonderful smells - particularly the frying bacon - and made his way towards an empty seat. A polished porcelain plate had been placed on the table in front of each seat, alongside a variety of forks and spoons that Jeremiah, with his bad sense of etiquette, didn’t understand the purpose of. Regardless, he placed his hat on his chair, picked up his plate, and went to get some food.

A pitcher and glass of orange juice, a breakfast sandwich, a slice of bacon, and a few pieces of watermelon later, he sat back down. Jeremiah didn’t do much more than stare at his breakfast, his hunger mildly dimmed by the thoughts coursing through his head. He almost didn’t notice the heavy footsteps of Travis before the other strong man sat down next to him. As, after a quick glance indicated, the latter person didn’t appear happy, Jeremiah gave a noncommittal “hello” and continued to think. A minute passed where neither said a word and Isaiah nibbled on a piece of bacon. The silence would’ve been palpable if it wasn’t for the general chattiness in the room itself. Most everyone whose names he did know were talking to whomever was closest in personality – the girl he’d met before (Yi-Ze, he remembered) talking to somebody who seemed quite cheery and enigmatic (Marala?), and Alex standing not far from another person about as quiet as he was, swapping a few pleasantries. Even Dorian was jumping to and from conversations in his usual eccentric fashion. And, of course, there was Jeremiah himself, sitting next to Travis.

“What’s bothering you?” said Andrew at last, after scarfing down a sausage and muffin. As normal, he had an annoyed tone, but it had a wary edge to it. He looked prepared to make a biting or sarcastic comment, likely due to their last confrontation.

Isaiah half-mumbled a response. “Just thinking about the stylists. If they’re going to help me settle on my appearance, I want to be able to make suggestions. What to do about my hair? Should I get contacts? I was curious about having orange-colored ones, but I doubt they have any. Should I cover up my scars, or leave them there to make me look rugged? Maybe I should indulge in a suit and tie for the sake of looking professional. Then again, do I care enough about my appearance to want that, or would I prefer something simple?”

Andrew snorted audibly. “I don’t really care about how I want to look. I’ve been dropped into a place I don’t recognize with people I don’t like – why should I care how I come across? I’m not interested in anything like that.”

“Unfortunately,” snapped Jeremiah, now getting a little annoyed, “they can’t let you wear nothing at all, as much as it matches your personality.”

The other man was befuddled. He tried to make a witty retort, but none came. Isaiah’s sense of wit was not frequently used, but always had great and unexpected timing. Frustrated, Jeremiah picked up his plate and moved away, sitting alone as he continued to think. Travis eventually huffed and also shifted his position, widening the gap between him and Isaiah. They shot angry glances at each other, but neither said another word. Fortunately, now nobody was willing to talk to or go near either of them, so Isaiah could eat his food in peace. Honestly, with the number of people that he had made friends or enemies of already (though both were strong words, he thought), he didn’t find it unlikely that he would soon find himself at the center of attention, whether he liked it or not. Even people he hadn’t yet met before looked at him curiously. It all made him extreme uncomfortable and bitter, and so he was happy to finish and leave quickly, particularly after he was sure that Andrew had also left.

When he returned to the room, he was accosted by several people in elaborate white suits. Beyond the initial wave of surprise on his part, which led to him nearly exiting the room and returning to the kitchen in a panic, he realized that he should’ve seen this coming. On his way to that room, he had heard snippets of conversation about several vans parked outside, and had actually seen some similarly-dressed people heading towards other occupied bedrooms. Of course, he had been so distracted that he had barely noticed, but those memories came back in full force and calmed him down, and the only thing he was left nervous about was his appearance, the details of which he had still been struggling to resolve.

However, the process proved surprisingly straightforward. They took measurements of his height and circumference and brought in several bags of different fabrics and clothes for him to look over and try out. In the end, he decided that it would be too much effort and fuss to choose something fancy, so he resorted to a black T-shirt, blue pants, white sneakers, a black cap, and a green-gray hoodie. He was surprised at how well everything fit and how comfortable he felt, but he guessed that Hekate had likely already informed the stylists of his general measurements and appearances, which made it a matter of pinpointing specific details pertaining to height and preference. Still, they were a tad surprised when he asked for orange contact lenses, though they obliged and provided him some. The color was stark and bright, making him seem more mysterious and powerful than he felt he was. It would likely draw more attention to him, or perhaps intimidate those around him. Maybe both. Nevertheless, it was his favorite color, and so he adopted it happily.

Resolving to be clean-shaven, Jeremiah had the stylists remove any stubble on his face and cut back his hair. The hair stylist made a long series of recommendations and ideas on potential styles and colors, though Isaiah, at the end of a long and arduous conversation, kept his present hairstyle. Everything else was, he felt, too flashy or didn’t match his personality too well, save for gel that would spike his hair a little more. Beyond that, all remaining details were minor. The scars on his face could be hidden or downplayed with makeup; however, even the stylists agreed that the scars were small enough that he would look perfectly fine with them, and did help in making him appear more handsome and imposing. Isaiah agreed. Too, he requested for and received a nice-looking watch with a leather strap, on top of expressing interest for ear piercings. Since the stylists didn’t have any resources for the latter available at the moment, they helped him schedule a meeting, set a few days away, with a professional in the area. After that, with Jeremiah’s appearance complete, they picked up and wheeled away his old clothes (to his joy) and placed a few pairs of new ones that he had also expressed interest in within his closet.

And that was that. Jeremiah was informed that a few other people would be arriving shortly to take him to Hekate, get a picture of him, and arrange the documents needed for his new identity. Thus, they left him relaxing on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and contemplating his new appearance. Needless to say, he felt wonderful to be rid of his old outfit and be in fresh, clean clothes. Now he could feel like his looks and clothes were his own - customized specifically for him, rather than thrown on him in a dark alleyway. It was refreshing to have yet another step in his new life complete, particularly after it had proved so rewarding, and his concerns over meeting Hekate and preparing his documents was a distant concern in his mind. Was everyone else having similar luck?


Bedroom #5, Second Floor| March 19th, 2016 | 9:10 AM
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.





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TinkerTwaggy says...



Duty N°2: Suiting up for greatness!


Dorian Seabright
Bedroom #6 Second Floor | March 19th, 2016| 7:00 AM




A wonderfully energetic music resounded in the air, forcing Bayzir to raise up in his bed – although surprised, he got up with his trademark huge smile on the face. Then he frowned, realizing that he called himself Bayzir in his mind again.

Hmm. Well Bayzir’s my middle name, right? So, I’m just… Dorian Bayzir Seabright. Dorian blinked and nodded to himself, leaving his thoughts aside. He should probably care about the fact that the music just got louder.
He left his room like everyone else to discover that it was Hekate’s doing, and she took the opportunity to explain why she had done it. Dorian couldn’t help but smile: she too, could act and stick to a role before showing another one? He wondered what other abilities she had concealed for them to discover. Though it was clear that Dorian’s thoughts weren’t shared by everyone, it certainly didn’t matter – after all, he could already tell that they had all much different personalities. He’d just have to understand them, right? Just like Sally and Allan had briefly advised him: Analyze the patterns.

“Speakin’ of patterns…!” Dorian whispered while smiling, earning himself a few looks from his comrades. He went back in his room after Hekate was done with her explanation and opened the shutters, gazing at his mahogany drawer. The DSi XL was resting on said drawer, Kirby Super Star Ultra still inserted in the console. Dorian stretched his arms, slightly tired. He had spent a good chunk of the night playing the amazing game, and thought he had finally found a way to defeat Dyna Blade. Dorian had also used a few sheets of paper to draw altered versions of King Dedede’s hammer and Dyna Blade’s metallic wings and armor. He didn’t know why he was so fascinated by weapons, he just… was.

“Maybe I should just draw penguins and birds with the gear... Ah, well, later.” He pointed a dramatic finger to the door at the edge of his room, which led to the luxurious inbuilt bathroom. “To the showering grounds, non-existing team!” Dorian giggled. Acting was fun.


Image



Dorian had to admit it: the first night he spent on Earth had, luckily, been a really good one. And the breakfast was, as expected, just as good. He couldn’t help but think that there was way too much food on the kitchen’s imposing table, but if they kept the rest of it for other people to eat, he assumed it would be fine. He took a bowl of cereal along with scrambled eggs and the exquisite multifruit juice he had tasted the previous day and began eating along with the others. Curiously enough, several groups seemed to have formed, with Marala speaking to Yi-Ze as usual. Dorian himself attempted to speak to everyone if possible, but it seemed that he was barely heard with all of them already locked in conversations or thinking to themselves.

Hmm. So maybe I should come in [i]earlier than everyone else to start a conversation myself.[/i] he thought, nodding to himself. Yes, that seemed right. Besides, he had greeted everyone, so that was good, right?
With that in mind, Dorian finished his marvelous meal and rose from his seat.

“…Oh.” he muttered, staring at his plate and bowl. “Now where do I place these?”

“It’s alright, you can leave it here.”

Dorian turned back: a maid had come to take his plate, to his slight surprise. “Oh, really? I don’t get to see where they go?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The, uh, plates. And bowl. Lady Hekate mentioned something about the dishes yesterday. We’re not doing the dishes? Because I kinda want to.”

“N-No, of course not.” the maid assured. “It’s our job to worry about such things, and you are a guest, after all.”

“Oh. Is that how it works?” Dorian frowned. “So, we’re just leaving you all of this without learning anything? Isn’t that, y’know… rude?”

A small smile appeared on the maid’s face. “Thank you for your consideration, but you really don’t have to worry about this. It’s our job, and Lady Hekate treats us very well indeed. She has other expectations for you all, so I assume you should only worry about meeting those.”

“…That’s a good point. You’ve got a good point! I’m Dorian. What’s your name?”

“Alvina.”

Dorian blinked. His implanted memory told him the name was rare. “Well good point well made, Alvina!” Dorian said cheerfully. “Though I’d at least like to know where I should place... Um... put the plates and all, in case I finish early and nobody’s there, y’know?”

“Oh, of course. Right this way.”

A dreamy smile on the face, Dorian followed Alvina to the kitchen’s washing area, his head full of hammer-equipped elvish penguins fighting against tyrannical armored birds of prey. He frowned. Elvish? Hmm. That name did sound like that word.
At any rate, Dorian waved the maid goodbye after he placed the plate and bowl where she pointed him to and went on his way. Luckily, he remembered the path quite well. He’d have to explore the rest of the castle at some point, too – though first, he had to finally defeat Dyna Blade after eleven failed attempts.
Unfortunately for him, it wouldn’t happen just yet: the stylists were already in his room when he opened the door. For a brief second, he wondered if people could really teleport, but he cast the thought out of his mind and greeted the three men in the room.

The stylists started by confirming measurements of Dorian’s height and overall built before opening no less than six giant suitcases full of clothing and accessories for him to choose. Understandably amazed, Dorian asked if it was okay for him to take his time choosing.

“Oh, oh! And um, do you have anything allied to games?” Dorian couldn’t help but ask. He frowned. "Related." he continued. "Related to games! I started to get into those recently, so, it would be kinda nice if I could get a shirt to represent that, y’know?”

Amused, the stylists showed of a collection of shirts related to all sorts of video gaming icons, including Kirby. But there was one that got Dorian’s curiosity. It was a plain brown shirt with the rough shape of a yellow bird on it, said bird having one of its paw stuck on a falling meteor. The words “House Wark: Meteor is coming” could be seen on the amazing-looking emblem.
“Um… D’you have any more like this one?” Dorian said, pointing at the shirt with the bird on it.

“Not here.” One of the stylists informed. “We brought only one clothing of each type so that’s we’d know for sure what you liked first.”

“We have around fifteen more in the van, however.” Another one added. “And probably even more in our main building. Most of these shirts were offered to us freely in relation with a famous game that came out recently, you see. I’ll skip the details, but it was all part of a marketing strategy.”

“…Is it… Is there a way for me to take all fifteen of these?” Dorian asked politely.

The three men shared a look. “Well, you can’t have then now, aside this one, but we will make sure Lady Hekate knows you like these shirts that much.”

Dorian took the shirt in his arms, already cherishing it with care. “I will wash it and the others every day if I have to.” he promised, though it only had the effect of making the three men laugh. After that, Dorian chose deep blue jeans with a silver belt, brown boots to go along with his new favorite shirt – the ones with orange laces were his favorite – and finally, a dark blue jean jacket. Clothing-wise, he was ready and felt more than satisfied with what he was offered. For other accessories, they showed him a selection of watches while explaining their functions to him. He picked a blue one, which doubled as a chronometer, a music player, and even a phone – though he couldn’t configure his options for that last one yet, they warned He shrugged, as he didn’t have anyone to contact anyway. The stylists also had a collection of necklaces and bracelets, so Dorian picked the one with an ancient bird claw on it – apparently, they didn’t know to which species it belonged too, so that just made Dorian curious enough to take it and find for himself. As for his hair, Dorian only asked the stylists to remove his fringe, keeping the rest of his spiky haircut intact. He gazed at himself – and especially his new shirt and claw-shaped necklace – in the mirror.

“…Yup.” Dorian approved. “Perfect. Oh, oh! And thank you, thank you so much for the shirt again. Um, what game did you say it was from?”

“Oh, something something Fantasy.” one of them replied as they left the room, their job complete. “You should find it easily if you type ‘fantasy yellow bird’ or on Google.”

“Right! That’s fair. Goodbye then, Mister! Have a nice day!” they waved each other goodbye as Dorian stood there, realizing something. Alvina’s name sounded like “elf.” And now he discovered a bird that was related to a “Fantasy” bird? Surely, this was a sign – he needed to draw his penguins and Dyna Blades instead of empty armors and hammers. Dorian nodded to himself, thrilled with the perspective. “Now then.” he muttered to himself, thinking aloud. “I have two things to ask. Number one: where’s internet. Number two: how can I visit my cell. Okay. Suit up, non-existent team!”

Happy with his performance, Dorian opened the door to his room and marched off, searching from Lady Hekate. Maybe she’d tell him to visit it after the photos were taken, but that was okay. He still had a giant, fireball-breathing bird he had to defeat in the meantime.


DUTY: COMPLETE!



Bedroom #6, Second Floor| March 19th, 2016 | 9:15 AM
"Is there a limit to how much living I can live with my life? How will I know if I've gone too far?
And why did I spend my life savings on sunglasses for a whale?
I shall find the answers... to these questions."








Almost all absurdity of conduct rises from the imitation of those whom we cannot resemble.
— Samuel Johnson