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# Puella Magi Adfligo Systema

- Thread starter Firnagzen
- Start date May 19, 2014
- Tags
    bad decisions dating mami tomoe diabolical laughter friendship is the best ship handholding identity crises microwaving tea gets you put in the bad place names are important puella magi adfligo systema puella magi madoka magica the body is the fursona of the soul this is not the baked goods thread we don't talk about rionna what could possibly go wrong? who in the world is azure sanfrancisco?

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Threadmarks Our Benefactor pt. 34
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#### Firnagzen

Operator

- Jun 28, 2015

- #52,242

You choke back your instinctive apology, swallowing hard.
"It can't be," Mami blurts out. "It isn't. Right, Sabrina?" She turns a pleading look on you.
Homura's gaze remains fixed on you, amethyst eyes fixed steadily on you. Her breaths come slow and measured, and her stance is carefully neutral.
You shake your head slowly. "It doesn't feel like my powers," you say, holding the feather up for them to see.
Mami reaches a hand out, stretching across you, and hesitates a moment. "S-Sabrina? May I?"
"Sure," you say, handing it over to Mami.
She takes the feather and raises it to her eye level, the slightest tremor betraying her discomfort. After a moment of intense scrutiny, she speaks again, voice soft. "It... seems normal to me." She holds the feather out to Homura with a small, hopeful smile.
The time traveller's eyes flick down to the feather for a moment, before returning to regarding you in stony silence. She shakes her head, and Mami's smile fades, the hand holding the feather dropping back to her side.
You force yourself to straighten and meet Homura's eyes, clear blue against faded, tired lilac. Splashes of colour in a drained world. "I don't think it's my powers or I, Homura. It... Remember I mentioned at lunch, that I made a Barrier? I made the same Barrier, and in the same way, earlier this morning, and I didn't encounter anything unexpected."
A flicker of a frown, chased by realisation washes across Mami's face, and she nods encouragingly at you.
You continue. "But... Homura, Mami, I... In any case, no more Barriers. Not until I find out what all these feathers are about."
"M-maybe..." Mami starts to say something, before trailing off with a sharp shake of her head.
"Mami?" you ask, giving her a quick hug and an encouraging smile.
She takes a deep breath, looking up at you. "Maybe it's something like a lightning rod? When y-you make a Barrier, some... Witch powers are, are, drawn in, s-somehow? L-like calls to like?"
Homura's attention shifts to Mami. Neutral, silent, barely moving. Almost a statue, for all the emotion she's displaying, and nearly as still as everything in the frozen world of the timestop.
Mami notices, frowning at Homura. "I... don't you think so, Homura? S-Sabrina?"
[] Write-in
=====​
An interesting suggestion, but a short update.
Last edited: Jun 28, 2015
Threadmarks Our Benefactor pt. 35
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#### Firnagzen

Operator

- Jun 30, 2015

- #52,510

You watch Homura for a moment, waiting to see if she says anything. The cold silence of the timestop seems to press in, the oppressive deadness making you feel queasy. Your stomach's a worried ball of disquiet, your shoulders a tense mass of knots.
Are you responsible for all this?
Homura shifts a hair, her head swivelling just far enough to return her intense scrutiny to you. Her hands still hang loosely at her sides, and she makes no further moves, simply watching you.
You force yourself to meet her eyes, searching her expression for any clue of what she might be thinking. The cold ball of fear sitting in your gut whispers that she's starting to doubt you. That she's starting to close herself off again. And some traitorous part of your mind wonders if she'd be wrong to.
"Sabrina?" Mami asks again, voice trembling.
You sigh, looking away from Homura with a grimace. "It's plausible," you allow. "But it's not something I can really test. If you're right..." Your mind eagerly supplies you with all the attendant implications, not a single one of them reassuring.
"I..." You swipe at your face tiredly, closing your eyes and pressing your fingers against your eyelids for a long moment. Mami cuddles into your side, giving you a hug, and you force yourself to think.
"OK," you say, eyes still closed. "OK. If you're right, that's... more than a little concerning. And it's difficult to prove without making the Barrier and risking it all over again."
Mami nods against your side, still hugging you closely. You open your eyes, looking at Homura, but she doesn't seem to have reacted much to that, either. Violet eyes remain fixed on you, and you find it hard to meet that stare.
Your eyes drop away from Homura's again, slipping to the spidery shadows scrawled across the ground by the gloom of the timestop. "I... OK," you say reluctantly. In case you're right, Mami, then... I simply won't make any more Barriers. No Barrier, no lightning rod, and no feathers. No Witches where they shouldn't be." You press your lips together, swallowing. You're not sure whether this will work, and whether you might've given up something crucial.
Homura nods. The motion's barely perceptible, the barest dip of her head by a minuscule sliver of a centimetre, but... it's something.
And you know what's important.
Don't you?
You press your lips together, and nod decisively. "Yeah. Until we know more, that's the best way to protect our friends," you say. "I'm not going to let this be my fault. I'm not. I'm going to keep my friends safe no matter what." You blow out a hard breath. "And if it's something else... well, I'll find it, and stop it."
"I'll help," Mami says immediately, hugging you tightly. "I-I will."
"Thanks, Mami," you say softly. You suppress a shiver, and raise your free hand to your Soul Gem. Touching a finger to the silvery-white Gem, you draw away a thick streamer of Grief, letting it pour away to form a sphere. "I... Mami? Homura? Do you need cleanses?"
Mami shakes her head. "Not really," she demurs. For a wonder, her Soul Gem's fairly clean, so you let that pass.
Homura watches you for a long moment, violet eyes remote, before her shoulders slump. Her gaze drops from yours, and she raises her right hand towards you to present the amethyst Soul Gem afixed there to you.
You cleanse her Soul Gem with a thought and a small gesture, drawing away the frothing cloud of darkness. "Homura?" you ask. "I... what do you think?"
She raises eyes to meet yours again, but not for long - her gaze slides off yours to rest somewhere on your nose. She looks uncertain, her jaw clenching and unclenching silently as she lowers her hand.
She exhales slowly.
"I..." she starts, before trailing off into silence, her eyes sliding away from your face. She looks around herself, one hand rising, and hesitating over the ribbon at her waist. "I don't know." Her eyes widen as the words pass her lips, almost surprised, and she flinches backwards.
[] Write-in
=====​
Huh. How odd.
Threadmarks Our Benefactor pt. 36
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#### Firnagzen

Operator

- Jul 2, 2015

- #52,675

You want to give her a hug.
You want to hug her, and tell her it'll all work out.
You're half a heartbeat away from stepping forward to catch Homura in a hug before you catch yourself. Not the time.
Instead, you straighten, facing Homura squarely. Homura's gaze remains dipped to the floor, her head slumped forward and her hand wrapping tightly around the ribbon binding you and Mami to the timestop.
"And that's all right," you say, taking a step forward. Seeming to read your motions, Mami follows you without prompting. "It's alright, Homura. This whole situation is... definitely strange. Strange, and there could be something unknown out there messing with us."
Homura senses your motion, her gaze snapping up to you. Her eyes harden, a small, worried frown making its way across her face.
"But that's fine," you say, with gentle emphasis. You meet Homura's eyes fully, confidently. "It's fine to be a little scared and a little uncertain. All this... isn't really something anyone can deal with alone. It's just too much." You shrug, smile fading a little.
It's sort of funny.
You can be certain about being uncertain. It makes a weird sort of sense to you, really.
Homura grimaces faintly, but you continue smiling at her, trying to project an air of confidence. "It's a good thing we aren't alone, isn't it? We have each other, and we'll beat whatever this is, together, just like we'll beat Walpurgisnacht and anything else that comes our way." You give Mami a quick half hug, including her, too.
If you're honest, though, you are somewhat uncertain. A little worried that things are beyond you. Despite your words, there's still that unpleasant little worm of uncertainty gnawing at your gut. And some part of you still wonders about your Barrier. So much might come of that, and there's so much you don't know. So much to find out, so many ways forward.
Some of that doubt probably shows on your face.
Homura sighs, still watching you. "This is different," she says.
"No," you say. You close the last step, reaching out to put your hand on Homura's shoulder and smile at her. "It isn't. We'll beat whatever this is together, just like we have everything else so far. And no matter what happens, we'll protect the people we care about, right?"
She flinches slightly at the touch of your hand, but she doesn't pull away entirely. "It isn't so easy," she says, eyes dipping away from yours once again. The spidery shadows of the timestop cast her face in shade, making it hard to see her expression. "It isn't."
"It won't be," you say. "But we'll face it together."
Mami nods. "Sabrina's right. We'll do this together, Homura."
Violet eyes regard you for a long moment, and she sighs quietly. "Alright," she says. Her mouth twists into a bitter smile for a moment before she looks up at you again. "Alright."
You... want to pull Homura into a hug, but much as it galls you, you don't really think she wants one. Not now. You smile at her instead. "That's the spirit," you say. "We'll do it together. Cheesy as that sounds... we will."
"Together," Mami echoes.
"Anyway..." you say, stepping back, still smiling at Homura. "Anything else?"
Mami shakes her head. "Nothing... Homura?"
The time traveller hesitates for a moment before shaking her head.
"Then I guess we're done here?" you say, inflecting it as a question.
Homura's already reaching for the shield, and she cranks it sharply across. Vibrant colour, fiery oranges and reds of evening, floods across the world. The busy sounds of Mitakihara in the evening wash across your ears, chasing away the oppressive silence of the timestop. You can't help but notice that Homura seems to tense up a little as the sound pours over you, looking around the alleyway carefully.
You send a telepathic message to Mami. "Do you think we could invite Homura to dinner today?"
"Of course," Mami agrees.
You look at Homura, smiling again. "Say, Homura," you ask, catching her attention. "Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?"
She blinks at you, taking a moment to consider this. "Yes," she says finally. "That would be... nice."
[] Write-in
=====​
The next update should see you through dinner, unless you want to talk to Homura or Mami specifically.
As always, dinner conversational topics are nice.
Last edited: Jul 2, 2015
Threadmarks Our Benefactor pt. 37
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#### Firnagzen

Operator

- Jul 4, 2015

- #52,789

Mami beams at Homura, then you. "We'll be glad to have you over, Homura," she says.
The time traveller gives another of those barely-there, slight nods. The smallest dip and rise of her head, her amethyst gaze returning to regard you.
You suppose you can understand some of that, you muse as the three of you head up to the rooftops above. You're the one who's brought all this change to Homura's usual routine - if you could call it 'usual', anyway. And... you suppose she's putting her hopes in you. It's a little scary.
A measure of thought forms a Grief carpet from the drifting planetarium of Grief spheres, with plenty to spare. You're still carrying enough Grief to make a Barrier, after all, though you'd promised not to make one any more.
You wave Homura onto the carpet with a smile, and she settles herself crosslegged on it. You sit just in front of her - you do need to see to be able to steer, after all. Mami takes up her usual position at your side, smiling at you.
"Alright, Meguca Airlines Flight SA-003, taking off for Mami's apartment..." you mutter, smirking to yourself.
"Wasn't it Sabrina Airlines?" Mami asks.
You shrug, a twist of your will lifting the carpet into the air, planetoids of Grief drifting after you as you begin climbing gently. "Probably," you admit. "I have a terrible memory, sometimes." You hear faint swish of movement coming from behind you, and turn to see Homura massaging at her forehead, a pained look on her face.
"Say, Homura," you say. "You never did tell me what your favourite food was."
She sighs, the sound all but snatched away by the onrushing wind. "Cream stew."
"Ah, gotcha!" you say, smiling encouragingly at Homura. She sighs again, violet eyes sliding away from yours to stare off into the distance. before exchanging a look with Mami. She nods slightly at you, golden eyes dancing, and you don't need telepathy to know that you're both thinking the same thing. Mami beams up at you, before tucking her head against your shoulder with a contented noise. You smile fondly, hugging her with one arm.
... cream stew, though. Something niggles at your memory - you're pretty sure you've heard that before somewhere, though you can't quite place it right now.
You head home, landing in the alleyway and emerging a minute later into the evening crowds, just three normal girls. Mostly normal, anyway. You still draw some attention thanks to your distinct features. You leave the bulk of your Grief on the rooftop.
"So Mami, Homura," you say as you thread through the crowds of people and into the lobby of Mami's apartment. "Meguca's things."
The two of them stare at you.
"... what do you mean?" Mami asks, sounding confused.
"... you know, you have your teacup thing, and Homura has her hair, that kind of thing?" you explain, thumbing the elevator button.
"Oh. Um," Mami says, sounding confused. "Do you mean this?" She looks around quickly for any bystanders, before reaching behind her back and pulling a cup out, still full of gently steaming tea.
"Yes, that! Exactly!" You wave your hands excitedly. "It... look, it seems like every magical girl has their thing, right? Some fun little trick or something. Well that, or they're new and haven't figured it out yet." The elevator door opens with a chime, and you step inside.
"Um..." Mami says, a faint frown knitting her brow as she returns the cup behind her back. "Alright...?"
"So I've been thinking about figuring one out, too," you say.
"This floor," Homura mutters. You get the impression that she'd be rolling her eyes right about now were she anyone else.
"Hmm? Right," you say, following Homura out. "But what do you think, Homura?"
Homura gives you an eloquent look, packing in exasperation, slight amusement, and... well, mostly exasperation.
"Hmph, fine," you mutter as Mami unlocks the door of her apartment. "Mami? What do you think?"
"Umm..." she temporizes as she heads in, immediately walking towards the kitchen. "I don't think that's really the case?"
You follow her in, depositing yor sling bag in its usual location. Homura closes and locks the main door, before trailing you into the kitchen. "Sure it is! Though maybe this is the kind of thing that can't be forced?"
"Well... Oh!" Mami says, stopping just a step inside the kitchen. You can see why, looking over her shoulder - tea leaves, and spilled water all over the floor.
"Oh. That's my bad," you say, starting forward. "I... couldn't see what I was doing, earlier. Lemme clean up."
"I'll help!" Mami says.
It doesn't take too long - it isn't too much of a mess, really. Homura pitches in, too, silently wiping down the countertop with a wet rag before returning to stand sentry near the door.
Mami's in the midst of pulling open the refrigerator before noticing Homura hovering near the door. "Oh, um, Homura, make yourself at home? And Sabrina, I think your powers are your 'thing'?"
Homura shakes her head a fraction, opting to remain at the kitchen door.
You absently reach for the flour and a saucepan as Mami starts pulling ingredients out of the fridge. "Nah, nah, it doesn't work like that. It has to be some trick that's more for fun, you know?"
"Your music?" Mami suggests. "Do you have the flou- ah, yes, there we go. Um, bigger saucepan, Sabrina, we can make some more to keep?"
"Roux?" you confirm, considering the pan for exchanging it for the larger one. "Music... well, maybe it counts. Doesn't feel right, though?"
Mami shrugs, smiling as she hands you the butter.
"Though speaking of which," you say. "Any requests for music?" In the living room, marbles drift free of your sling bag, already melting and reshaping themselves into your musical instruments while you busy yourself at the stove.
Mami shakes her head, dropping some meat -pork- into a bowl of warm water to defrost it quickly. "Homura?" she asks, glancing at the girl still hovering near the door.
Homura looks uncertain, before shaking her head.
"Well then, something new," you say with a smile, focusing a touch. You know what you want to play, and the opening cymbals begin to sound. You grin. In context, perhaps not the best song, but certainly it's cheery and energetic.
You bob along to the beat as you step lightly past Mami, smiling at Homura. "Homura, you don't have to just stand there, you know."
Mami nods in affirmation. "You could just watch the television while you wait," she offers.
"I've probably seen it before," Homura murmurs, eyes still fixed on you as if trying to unravel your secrets. Then again, she probably is.
"Mmmm," you hum, returning to the pot with a whisk and lowering the heat. "Well, OK then."
"This is nice, Sabrina," Mami says, beaming at you.
"Thank you!" you say, starting to sift flour into the butter. You watch Homura out of the corner of your eye - she seems content to simply stand there and watch, though you notice her take a deep sniff as the savoury scent of butter starts to permeate the kitchen.
Eventually, after some dickering over the cooking, with Mami taking over from you, dinner's ready. A nice, thick cream stew, with chunks of vegetable and meat bobbing inside it. Homura's attention has shifted now to hungry looks, directed at the pot on the table.
"Say, Homura?" you say as you ladle out the stew.
"Yes?" she glances at you.
"Um... how did things go at the hospital?" you ask, sliding her a bowl of stew.
"Madoka is safe," she replies. "Kamijou was slightly disappointed, Miki Sayaka more so."
"Ah, right," Mami says, looking downcast as you pass her a bowl, too. "We should visit tomorrow, and finish the healing. Um... speaking of which, though, weren't we going to visit Miss Ono today?"
"Yeah," you sigh, claiming a bowl for yourself and sitting down. "I told her that we couldn't make it. But well... let's eat up, first."
Homura moves with alacrity, practically snatching a spoon up and scooping up the stew. You find yourself eating rather quickly - you're quite hungry, but Homura practically hoovers her way through the bowl, finishing well before you or Mami are even halfway through your own. She glances at the pot, and you chuckle. "Help yourself, Homura," you say, looking at Mami for confirmation. She nods, with a smile.
"So anyway, returning to our earlier topic," you say, the edge taken off your hunger. "Miss Ono... Well, I was going to contact her later today about meeting up for a Witch hunt. It's... not right to put her off again, I feel. And... I'm concerned about how quickly her Soul Gem is darkening."
Homura exhales a slow breath into her stew. "Her magic," she offers. "She has it running constantly."
"Oh, did you check on her?" Mami asks with a frown. "That's not a smart thing to do. Her magic, I mean."
Homura shrugs fractionally, lapsing back into silence, spoon darting between the bowl and her mouth.
"I think we need to talk to Miss Ono," Mami says, biting her lip and looking down at her bowl. "It's... not wise."
"Yeah," you agree. "Sooner rather than later."
Mami nods, looking concerned. "It's still early tonight, so... maybe?"
"Maybe," you agree. "Let's finish dinner first."
She nods again, looking thoughtful.
Dinner finishes in silence, Homura finally leaning back contentedly in her chair, having demolished nearly half of the pot of stew all by herself. There's a faint, satisfied smile on her face.
"Alright!" Mami says brightly, getting up. "We should clear up, now."
"Yeah," you say, pushin-
-g yourself up. You stumble backwards, but a viselike grip -Homura- on your shoulder keeps you standing. Mami's back is to you, and she's frozen into the grey hues of the timestop.
"I'm going to restock my weapons now," Homura say. "Are you still coming?"
[] Write-in
=====​
Thanks @Cannongerbil for the upload of the music!
Also, here ends Book 2, Chapter 3: Our Benefactor. The next chapter begins with the next update!
Regarding timeskips: They're coming, don't worry. But there is stuff that needs to go down first.
Last edited: Jul 4, 2015
Threadmarks Residue Processing pt. 1
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#### Firnagzen

Operator

- Jul 5, 2015

- #52,937

It's time.
Shopping time! With Homura! Time to go and acquire metric tons of firepower and other miscellaneous equipment!
You try to smother the grin rising to your face, you really do. You try to keep a dignified facade up, to match the gravity of the situaton. You might be robbing unsuspecting JSDF soldiers who would get unfairly court martialed... or you might be robbing reprehensible scum of the earth. Like yakuza!
... you don't exactly succeed, and settle for hiding the face-splitting grin with a hand. "Yes!" you squeak, voice slightly muffled.
Homura looks at you, expression faintly nonplussed, before nodding.
"Where're we going?" you ask eagerly, lowering your hand to grin at Homura.
"There's a Yamiguchi-gumi base downtown," Homura answers.
Yes. Them you can rob happily. It's not like they're anything like their romanticised anime counterparts, anyway. True enough that the yakuza tend to disdain petty crime, but the big things... drugs, humans, and guns. And stock market manipulation and gambling, of course. Reason enough that you won't feel guilty about relieving them of some of their equipment.
"Sabrina?" Homura asks, peering at you.
"Hm? Oh, sorry," you say, turning a fraction of your attention to reclaiming your Grief from the instruments. "Let's go!"
Homura nods, withdrawing a fat reel of cord from her shield and offering it to you. It's a little tricky for you to get it tied around your waist without breaking contact with her, but you manage. Homura inspects her handiwork, testing the cord around her waist before walking over to the window and brushing aside the curtains.
She hops out, leaping for the far roof, and you follow close behind her, the cord not letting you stray too far. Absently, you pull on the Grief you'd left on the rooftops - you don't have your sling bag with you this time. The planetoids of Grief drift silently through the air as you leap through the air, the cord tugging at your waist.
"Hey, Homura!" you call. You hardly have to raise your voice to be heard. Without the traffic, the sirens, the rumble of people on the streets... without the pulse of Mitakihara City, your voice carries easily.
Still, the dead silence of the timestop's hardly enough to dampen the grin still fixed on your face.
Homura stops on the roof as you land behind her, the cord slapping down a moment later. She gives you an inquiring look.
"I think I'll fly us there?" you suggest. "The string makes things a little tricky." You tug on the cord in question demonstratively.
She shrugs.
You take that as permission, and a thought weaves Grief into a carpet before you. One long step, and you plonk yourself comfortably down on it, crossing your legs. Homura seats herself more sedately beside you, tucking your feet in, and you smile.
"Alright!" you say happily. "Here we go, then. You'll have to give me directions, Homura." A small effort of will lifts the carpet into the air, skimming slowly over the rooftops. You glance back, confirming with your eyes what you already know - your Grief spheres are following you, a dark cloud of small spheres massing behind.
"West," Homura murmurs, pointing.
You adjust your course with a thought, swinging in that direction, and the flight continues in relative silence. You're hardly able to repress your grin, though.
You quickly reach your destination, directed by Homura, a rather respectable-looking building in a slightly more run down area. It looks well maintained by comparison, clean paint and windows that are, if not sparkling, then significantly less grimy than those of the building's neighbours. Unsurprising, you suppose. There's a few tatooed men, lean and rather scruffy looking, leaning against the wall beside the door. Smoke from their cigarettes form little plumes, trapped in the timestop.
Homura hops off the carpet as you coast to a halt right in front of the building and marches boldly up to the door, a purple burst of magic unlocking it with a click. She glances back at you, her expression... curious, and worried, and questioning.
You beam at her, trying to put reassurance into the smile. Homura regards you for a long moment in silence, before she shakes her head, pushing the door open and heading inside. You follow, the carpet unravelling back into loose Grief as you head in.
The door opens right up into a reception area of sorts. A fish tank sits right in front of the door, a few plush leather couches arranged around a small glass table. A wooden desk, occupied by a lean, harsh looking man, sits by the far wall.
Homura ignores all this, heading down a flight of stairs into the basement and unlocking another door. You follow her in, and find something that looks more like a gym locker room, lit from above by bare fluorescent tubes. Rows of benches run down the middle of the room, a few more yakuza lounging in this room, each one lean and vicious looking. Your attention, however, is drawn to the heavy steel cages lining the walls, holding rack upon rack of guns.
Pistols, mainly. Some Desert Eagles, foreign import because of the fanciness in all likelihood. Berettas - 92FS, by the look of it. A few shotguns, a few assault rifles, no doubt smuggled in from outside the country. One machine gun, sitting in a place of honour in a cage all of its own, and a few cabinets presumably holding ammo for all the guns.
Your grin threatens to split your face in half.
"How do you do it?"
That draws you up short. You glance at Homura. "Hmm?"
"You know nearly everything," Homura says, violet eyes looking very tired.
"Yeah," you agree.
"How do you... stay so happy?" Homura asks, voice soft.
[] Write-in
=====​
Here begins Book 2: Chapter 4: Residue Processing.
Last edited: Jul 16, 2015
Threadmarks Residue Processing pt. 2
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#### Firnagzen

Operator

- Jul 6, 2015

- #53,065

You blink at Homura, grin fading, and earlier delight chased away by a faint flush of dismay. Homura definitely knows how to ask the hard questions. You're not even entirely sure of things yourself, really.
You purse your lips for a moment, thoughts sleeting through your mind. She needs an answer, you think, and you feel that you owe it to her to give her something concrete. You give quick consideration to giving her an encouraging speech, and... it's not a bad idea. You kind of like the idea, but you're not entirely sure whether it'd really give the right impression.
Well...
"I... think it's at least partly an outsider's perspective," you say thoughtfully, mouth twisting as you consider your words. "I know a lot. I don't know. I didn't live through it, so I can just take the lessons and put them towards making this time better."
You pause in consideration, watching Homura. She, in turn, watches you, seeming to wait for you to go on.
"It's kind of unfair, really," you muse, looking away. "In a way... You and Mami and the rest of the girls have done most of the work already." You smile at Homura sheepishly, shrugging a little. "I stand on the shoulders of giants and all, I guess."
Homura shakes her head a little. Disappointment, maybe.
"Hey," you say softly, walking over to Homura. You're careful to keep the cord from tangling on anything, especially the frozen yakuza lounging around in the room. "Homura. It's... well, that's not all." You stop right in front of her, smiling.
She's so small. A touch taller than Madoka, true, but you're nearly half a head taller than she is. You hardly ever notice. She's always moving with purpose, tightly restrained, directed energy. Weary and battered, but always moving forward.
Now... she just looks at you, tilting her head back a little to meet your eyes. You can see the fine worry lines etched around her eyes, on her forehead. History that never was, written on her face in delicate traceries of slowly deepening lines.
You take a deep breath, smiling. "I take happiness in the little things," you say softly. It's not like you need to speak loudly to be heard.
You spread your hands. "Meeting and getting to know people. I mean..." you tap a finger to the side of your head. "I knew Mami, Madoka, Sayaka, Hitomi... But I didn't know them." You tap yourself over the chest and meet her eyes. "Trite as it seems, I didn't know Akemi Homura until I met you. And I'm pleased to meet you."
"And all the other little things," you continue with a smile. "Exploring the city, finding new places... I found this old warehouse in the old industrial area that I've sort of adopted for experimenting. And that's another thing, just... messing around. Finding out things I didn't know."
You huff a sigh out. "The little things. It's... Yeah. The little things, and the people that I've come to care about," you say, smiling at Homura. Including Homura in the statement. "Cheesy as it sounds, but yeah. You guys all matter to me. And I can be happy that I'm helping."
Homura sighs, and nods. "I see," she says. "I don't..." Her lips compress together, gaze shifting around the room instead.
"Hey," you say. "It's... admittedly I have it a lot easier, since everything is new. I get up everyday with people to see and something different to do. And... the same's true for you, isn't it? People to see, and something different to do."
A faint glimmer of... something appears in Homura's eyes, her expression shifting. "Yes," she says, raising her chin a bit. You want to call it pride, but no. Rather call it strength, patient and just about as immovable as the mountains. Not indestructible. But the next best thing to it. You know what -or who- she fights for.
"That's the spirit," you say.
She nods. "Shall we continue?" she asks, gesturing around the room.
[] Write-in
=====​
Mmmm.
Threadmarks Residue Processing pt. 3
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#### Firnagzen

Operator

- Jul 8, 2015

- #53,325

"Of course," you say, smiling at Homura. You bite back a touch of disappointment, a sensation that you hadn't done nearly enough. But would an inspiring, hot-blooded speech have had much of an effect on Homura? You're really not completely sure, but you doubt it, a little. She's not really the type.
Homura considers you for a long moment, before dipping her head towards you. She pivots sharply on one heel towards the racks of guns, her long black hair swirling behind her in the still air before settling into the familiar, improbable split tails. You ponder her hair briefly before discarding the thought, for that way madness lies.
She reaches the first rack - pistols by the dozen. Mostly Berettas, sleek, dark L-shapes sitting quietly in row after row, with a few oddities here and there, like the two Desert Eagles. Seems like even here in Japan, there's always someone going for the loud, flashy weapon in complete disregard for cost. None of them are particularly golden, or even gold-ish, you note. You're not sure why that's important, but indeed none of them are.
You watch as Homura simply unlocks the rack with another purple flare of magic -she probably gets quite a lot of use out of that one trick, really- and slides the locking bolts back. She raises her shield bearing over the rack, and passes the shield over the pistols. It's like watching a magic trick, which, technically it is - one moment, they're hanging innocuously on the rack, then they're blocked from sight by the shield, and then... there's an empty spot there.
And another empty spot next to it, and another, and another...
It's over in less than ten seconds, as much time as it takes for Homura to make one pass. The entire rack is denuded of weapons.
You blink, feeling a grin begin to return to your face. You lock your hands behind your back with a rustle of your leather coatsleeves - look, don't touch, just watch the pro at work and everything.
Homura pauses in her tracks and glances back at you curiously, head tilted a hair to the side.
You raise an eyebrow at her.
She blinks slowly, deliberately at you.
A second eyebrow joins the first.
She shrugs, and returns to her weapons gathering - this time unlocking a rack of assault rifles. It does vaguely occur to you to wonder how on earth they get assault rifles in Japan... but then again, organized crime. This time, she needs to pick them up one by one to slide into her shield.
"So um," you say, a thought occurring to you. You glance around at the racks - the yakuza are sensible enough to store the guns unloaded. "Do you need to load these manually, or something?"
"Yes," Homura says, tone mild. "Those cabinets in the back have all the ammunition."
Some part of you cringes at the thought - live ammunition kept in filing cabinets, but you nod. "I suppose that takes a while?"
Homura shrugs minutely, glancing wordlessly around the frozen greys of the timestopped world. Well, to be fair, is the world frozen, or are you going arbitrarily fast? You take a moment to contemplate that as Homura passes over two of the rifles, particularly worn looking specimens. Well, pragmatically speaking it's more or less the same thing, you suppose, except that's not really true. In principle, someone with an antimagic field would be able to move if the wolrd truly were frozen... on the other hand, magic. Like getting electricity despite the timestop.
Magic is such bullshit.
"Those rifles jam," Homura murmurs, indicating those two rifles she'd passed over.
"Ah, gotcha," you say. "May I?"
She shrugs, already moving on to the next rack, picking around a yakuza lounging on a bench. The thug's been caught in a particularly unflattering expression, droopy eyes and droopy mouth. The whole freezeframe issue, really.
You pick up the rifle - it's an AR-15, you recognize. Plastic stock, of course, barely modified. You... sort of wonder how it wound up here. If you had to hesitate a guess, they probably diverted a few for their own use from larger shipments? You've no real idea.
You inspect it, turning it over in your hands before racking the charging handle and checking clear the chamber. Click the safety up, and pop the takedown pin... the lower receiver, butt, trigger, grip and all swing away. You rack the handle again, catching the bolt as it slams backwards out of the way.
A glance up -you can feel eyes on you- and you catch Homura watching you curiously. "The buffer spring's worn," she notes. "No point to it."
"Oh," you say, shrugging, and reassemble the rifle before replacing it. "Umm... do you need a cleanse, Homura?"
Her eyes flick over to you. "Not yet," she says. She hesitates for a moment, before she makes a halting addition. "Thank you."
You smile. "No problem."
She goes through the racks, and you just watch her. Does she ever use those shotguns, you wonder? Probably, you decide - excellent for Familiars, if nothing else, at a bet.
Finally, she pauses at the end of now considerably emptier room, pulling open the cabinets to reveal... rows and rows of neatly filled magazines and clips, as well as boxes of ammunition. You walk up beside Homura, eyeing the considerable quantity of ammo.
"So, um, you need to load... all the guns?" you ask.
"Yes," she says, sweeping her arm over the neatly stacked rows and hoovering them up by the dozen. She lowers herself to the floor, crosslegged, and holds her shield out. With a clatter, dozens of pistols drop to the floor, along with clips. She gives you a look, before picking up a pistol and a clip out of the pile.
You take that as an invitation, and seat yourself comfortably opposite her from the pile as she loads the Beretta and racks the slide, cocking it and flipping on the safety before slipping it into her shield. You squint at the pile for a moment, before a twist of will has spheres of Grief sweeping in. "Here, let me, Homura," you say, smiling.
You reach out with your mind and with your Grief in a dozen grasping tendrils, snatching up pistols and clips from the pile. With a dozen simultaneous clicks, you slam each and every single clip home at once, the sound echoing like, well, a gunshot. Another twist of will, and you cock and safe them all at once.
You grin proudly at Homura, holding out the now loaded pistols to her, grip first.
She blinks at you for a moment before claiming the loaded and readied pistols. Another pass of her shield over the ground, and she dumps a larger pile of guns on the ground. Considerably larger. A few pistols mixed in with assault rifles. She stares at you.
"Oh fine, be that way," you say with a grin. You reach out again, snaking tendrils of Grief snapping out to sieze guns and load them with a metronomic rhythm. Homura accepts the loaded ones, replacing the rapidly depleting pile of firearms with fresh, empty ones.
You work in a companionable silence, Homura shoving the guns into her shield as fast as you pass them to her, and replenishing the pile when she has a moment. "Hey, Homura," you say, raising your voice a little to be heard over the clatter of loading guns.
Violet eyes cut over to you, an inquisitve expression on Homura's face.
"Do you think I could pick up something for myself?" you ask. "I kind of want something to cover my lack of options outside a hundred meters."
Homura shrugs with one shoulder, reversing a rifle -an AR-15- to you before pausing. "How will you keep it?"
[] Write-in
=====​
Did you know that Japan ranks 6th in the total value of things smuggled through? Well, by some rankings, anyway.
Also, this is an armoury; if you want cash, you'll have to make a side trip.
Threadmarks Residue Processing pt. 4
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#### Firnagzen

Operator

- Jul 9, 2015

- #53,591

You purse your lips in consideration. "That is an excellent question," you say brightly, your Grief manipulations still for the moment, since Homura isn't clearing away the loaded guns. You wonder for a moment about making a gun out of Grief and just using real ammunition - it's not like that's much of an issue, really, and certainly that would be the most concealable.
Homura shakes her head slowly, an expression flickering across her face. You might be wrong, but... you're pretty sure you saw the barest sliver of a fraction of a trace of an exasperated, amused smile there for a moment.
"OK... I'll keep it in my Grief cloud," you say thoughtfully, making a decision and pulling a few spheres of Grief over. Homura passes the rifle over to you, and you take it with a smile, checking the safety. You lay it on your lap, looking at the Grief spheres - you'll encase the AR-15 in an ellipsoid, you think.
You suit action to thought, Grief reaching out and sealing the rifle away. "Thank you, Homura," you say, smiling at her and squinting at the enormous ovoid of Grief containing the rifle.
She shrugs slightly in response.
Locking it away does rather beg the question of what happens if you're anti-magicked. Not that you really think best buddy would do that to you, but then again. You're reasonably sure that Oriko's on your side, but not absolutely sure. And-
You left the Feather with Mami.
Panic lances through you for a moment, but-
You're in Homura's timestop. You're... pretty sure you're safe her. You take a deep, slow breath, calming yourself down.
"Is something wrong?" There's a hint of concern in Homura's voice, her head tilted fractionally to the side.
"No... well..." You frown. "I left the Feather with Mami."
Homura frowns, too. "It's just a feather."
"I know," you murmur, speaking more to yourself than anything. "Just a feather. Nothing magical or Witch-y about it. Just a feather." You sigh. "Just something that showed up to ratchet up my paranoia."
The two of you sit in silence for a moment, before you shake yourself, trying to divest yourself of the rather disquieting thoughts.
"Anyway... I'm just wondering, do you have anything smaller than the AR-15, Homura?" you say. You are quite sure of things, but it doesn't hurt to be safe. "Something concealable, in case of, well, anti-magic or something like that?"
Faded lilac eyes meet yours for a long, long moment. You can practically see the wheels turning in her head, Homura looking right at you before she nods, breaking eye contact. Her right hand hesitates over her shield for a moment before she dips into it, withdrawing...
Withdrawing...
what
"What."
Homura raises her eyebrows at you, holding the pistol by its barrel and presenting it to you. It's a... distinctive weapon, from the exposed trigger group transiting into what you know is a five round magazine, to the top-exposed bolt action slide, gliding onwards to a matte, blackened barrel. A shortened barrel.
You stare at the equally sawn down birch stock of the sawn down Mosin-Nagant rifle. A bolt action rifle converted to a pistol that fires 7.62mm rounds.
"It's an obrez," Homura notes quietly. She pronounces it correctly, too. She begins to reach into her shield again. "Do you want something smalle-"
"N-no!" you squeak, taking -well, snatching, really- the pistol from her and turning it over in your hands. An obrez. It's on the larger end of concealable, but it's something you can fit into your bag if you remove some of the marbles. It's not like you'd expect to carry anything but a pocket pistol or something in your, well, pocket. "Where did you even get this?"
Homura shrugs with one shoulder. "There's a magical girl who shows up infrequently."
"Ah," you say. Answer enough, you guess. "Well... thank you, Homura."
She nods.
You heft the pistol in your hands for a moment, before consigning it to the care of another blob of Grief, arriving obediently at your side like a well trained butler. You smile at Homura again, and look around the silent, grey room, with its denuded racks and frozen yakuza. "Say, Homura? Did you ever check if there's any repercussions of this theft?"
Homura shrugs neutrally, the simple, motion eloquently elucidating upon her extraordinary disinclination to care about any repercussions from this theft, which would suggest that nothing signifcant would happen to Madoka as a result. Not exactly the same thing as nothing significant happening period, but still. It's something.
"Well, OK then," you say. "I was thinking... maybe we could do more than just take their guns. Destroy all their stuff to hinder their operations?"
Homura looks at you. "There's no poin-" she cuts herself off, closing her mouth, and regards you contemplatively. "I... I am not opposed," she says carefully. "You can cleanse me afterwards, right?"
A grin breaks out on your face. "Yeah. Of course," you say. "Shall we finish the rest of the loading, then get to it?" You present the latest set of loaded weapons to her.
Homura nods, claiming them and refreshing the pile. It only takes you a few more minutes, filled with the loud clattering of metal on metal.
You roll your neck, as the stream of weaponry comes to an end, absently riffling through that awareness at the back of your head of your inventory of Grief, checking that everything's where it should be. Grief spheres by the dozen, lurking in the corridor outside, ready at your beck and call, check. One particularly large blob of Grief, with a rifle shaped cavity inside, and a normal sized sphere with a notebook shaped hollow for Homura's notebook, another for your obrez... check and check and check. And lastly, the ring still sitting on your finger, which is, in turn, pleasantly and distinctly un-dissolved and uncorroded.
Homura stands, unfolding gracefully from her crosslegged seating position while you heave yourself up with considerably less poise. She glances at you, quirking an eyebrow microscopically.
You smile at her. "Shall we go, Homura?"
She nods, tilting her head towards the door and starting out. You glance back at the rifle you'd handled, still sitting on its rack. It has your fingerprints now, doesn't it? At a thought, Grief swings in, wickedly sharp blades forming and hammering into it with whickering chimes of steel as you slice it into so much metallic confetti.
Homura glances back at you with another raised eyebrow as the two of you head down the corridor.
"Fingerprints," you explain with a shrug.
Homura considers that, and nods. "This way," she says, turning down another corner. "They keep their money in the upper floors," she notes.
You turn into a large room. At the far end, you can see a wall knocked out, and replaced with a steel shutter, presumably leading to an underground loading bay. Stacked against the walls are long tables, sealed lockboxes arrayed in neat rows.
"Drug cache," Homura says, gesturing around the room.
"Hmm... I can work with this," you say, reaching out with your mind and sweeping tendrils of Grief. Deep purple filaments spear through the lockbox lids, revealing crystals and powders, all enclosed in neat, tidy little bags. "Homura, I'm going to do something, OK?" you warn.
Shredding isn't enough. At Homura's nod, you focus for a moment - and Grief ignites, dozens of magnesium-white flares blazing to life, burning with vicious hunger.
You hum, grinning in the stark white light of narcotics going up in... well, not even smoke. There's no smoke, not if you don't want there to be, just perfectly clean burning will-driven, Grief-fuelled magical fires that renders everything down to nothing but carbon dioxide, water vapour and various other oxides.
A thought strikes you as the sensation of Witch sings against your senses - well, more than one thought, really, like Yakuza time-ninjas attacking you. Or, like, necrons. What if you'd wished to summon Warhammer figurines? Then again, why stop at Warhammer figurines?
Surreptitiously, you look around just to be sure that there aren't in fact any time-Yakuza ninja or necrons around. Or was it Yakuza time-ninja? Is there a difference? Well, yes, there is, but is there a relevant difference? How wou-
You shake your head. Focus!
"Hrm. Sasa Yuuki," you mutter out loud. Relief sings through your veins that you didn't blurt out anything about waaaaghs or the Emperor or the Greater Good or glories of Chaos or something.
Homura turns her attention from the dancing flames to look at you, silence inviting her to continue.
"Do you know her?" you ask, eyeing the fire. "Sometimes magical girl, blue eyes, brown hair cut into a kind of hime cut? Also, I think we can head upstairs now?" You eye the scorched puddles of metal, all that remains of the lockboxes.
She frowns, turning to head out of the room. "Yes. She doesn't show up very frequently."
"Yeah," you agree, following. "Still... Her powers would fit the odd Witch behaviour, don't you think? Controlling Witches and all, right?"
"Why would she go after Sayaka?" Homura asks, glancing back at you as she reaches a set of stairs.
"Yeah, I was thinking that too," you say, taking the stairs two at a time. "That much doesn't make sense. But... I'm going to see whether I can find her. If she became a magical girl... well, I'll figure that out then. Burn that bridge when I get to it, as it wer- no wait cross that bridge, cross that bridge, not burn it."
"Noted," Homura says. "Would you like me to come along?"
[] Write-in
=====​
Wheeeeee, long-ish post.
Last edited: Jul 10, 2015
Threadmarks Residue Processing pt. 5
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#### Firnagzen

Operator

- Jul 12, 2015

- #53,792

That's not even a question for you, affirmation already rising to your lips. "Yeah," you say. A smile breaks out on your face. "Yeah, of course, Homura, but only if you're really alright with coming along."
Homura nods. "Yes, I am," she says, glancing back at you as she paces up the stairs. Neither of you are even really panting from the exertion.
"Great!" you say, smile broadening into a grin. "And... Homura, thank you. I really appreciate your help with all this."
She stops abruptly, one leg poised on the next step and head slightly bowed.
"Homura?" you ask, catching yourself just before you collide with her.
She exhales softly. "Thank you," she says in her even, quiet tone, without looking back at you.
You hop up to the same step as she's on, waiting patiently for her to meet you in the eyes. "Hey. Your indulging me on all this is plenty, Homura. So thank you."
She nods, breaking eye contact and starting up the stairs again. Your smile lingers, satisfied as you follow her. That's progress, you think. Slow, but... you're making progress, you think. Day by day. And hopefully you don't backslide more than you advance.
"Hm. Homura?" you say as you follow her up the stairs. "So I've dropped by to talk to Kyouko a few times, the past few days. It... well, I guess she seems to tolerate me?"
She picks up the implicit question, obviously thinking about it for a moment. She doesn't break stride, continuing up the stairs. "Dealing with Kyouko is... simple," Homura says with a shrug. "Don't lie to her. Or to yourself. Food helps, too."
"Yeah," you murmur, digesting that slowly. "Yeah, I can see that. And yes, I've been treating her to food."
Homura abruptly peels off from the staircase, heading out to the lobby. "This way."
Cool air, laden with faint traces of cigarette smoke, hits you in the face as step out of the stair lobby. The corridor Homura has led you out on is nicely carpeted, a few potted plants lining the sides, polished wooden doors in neat rows. It's virtually indistinguishable from a nice office, of which there is probably some witty social testimony to be made, but really. It's a nice office corridor, more or less.
Homura heads to the end of the corridor, and hesitates before unlock the door on her left. She pushes it open. She peers inside, before shaking her head. "Other door," she says, closing the door and heading over to the other.
Unlocking the door with another small flare of magic, she pushes it open and stepping inside. You look over her shoulder to see a burly man absolutely covered in coiling tattoos, visible thanks to the lack of shirt. He's kneeling on the floor,off to the side in front of a sword rack, apparently having just set down the gleaming... well, that is a katana.
Homura steps lightly around the yakuza, obviously headed for the enormous safe at the back of the room. The safe is a massive, freestanding affair that comes up to your shoulder, blocky and heavy steel bolted firmly to the ground and secured with two keyholes and a complex, three-layered dial.
Homura unlocks it with a touch and a faint purple shimmer of magic, pulling the safe door open to reveal... Piles of money. Literal piles of money in neatly stacked bundles. Every shelf but the lowermost one is filled with tightly bound stacks of ten thousand yen notes, one hundred to a stack, at a guess. And the lower shelf is filled with gold bars. Solid gold bars, about the size of your index and middle finger put together. More money than you've ever seen in your life, though admittedly that's not a high standard to clear.
"Well um," you say, blinking. "That's a lot of money."
A shrug somehow eloquently conveys the notion of 'well, what did you expect?'
"Well," you repeat yourself,staring blankly at the piles of yen notes. "Um. If it's alright, can I swipe some of this? You can take the rest, of course."
"Take as much as you want," Homura says with another shrug.
You summon another butler-blob of Grief to you. Moving carefully to avoid getting fingerprints anywhere, you scoop up a few stacks of notes and deposit them into the cavity shaped out of Grief. You hesitate, and grab a few of the gold bars too. If nothing else, you can use them as ammunition for your hypothetical Grief cannon.
You start talking again as you work. "So um, going back to the earlier topic, about Kyouko... I want to reconcile her and Mami. Do you have any advice for that?"
A faint frown appears on Homura's face. "That won't be easy," she says, mouth twisting into a grimace.
"I know," you grumble. You've been debating with yourself about that, whether to offer to bring Kyouko to the picinic this weekend or not. Which... well, why not outsource the decision? You purse your lips. "You know that picnic this weekend? I'm thinking about inviting Kyouko and Yuma, but that could potentially end... badly."
"It..." Homura considers this. "It will, most likely."
Your shoulders slump. "Yeah. Thought so," you say. One more bundle of allowance from Mom -you mean one more stack of loot- fills up the sphere nicely, so you seal it off. "I don't suppose you have any better advice for figuring out a way to reconcile them?"
Homura frowns, looking around the room. Her eyes settle on the katana, resting in its rack. "Why are you asking me?" she asks, eyes distant and pained.
[] Write-in
=====​
Apologies. Had, have a crisis of sorts on my hands in meatspace.
Additionally, the next vote will probably bring you back to Mami's apartment so vote accordingly.
Threadmarks Residue Processing pt. 6
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#### Firnagzen

Operator

- Jul 14, 2015

- #53,970

You sigh, letting your eyes drift, too. Inevitably, they find themselves drawn on the gleaming steel of the katana. "I'm... so very far from perfect. And most definitely not some kind of a miracle worker," you say softly, quirking a sour smile. Miracles do exist, don't they? How many might flow from your hand?
"I've made mistakes. A lot of them," you say. A glance over at Homura. You find lavender eyes, shadowed and pained, meeting yours, and you think you see a glimmer of understanding for that regret. "I'm only doing well because of the knowledge I have, and I haven't seen every one of the loops."
Homura sighs. "You've done better so much better than me," she whispers. "I..." She trails off with a sigh. "May I have a cleanse?" She lifts her left hand towards you, the motion listless, lacking her usual sharp, precise energy.
"Of course," you say. It only takes a moment of thought to draw the Grief from Homura's Soul Gem, and she straightens, watching as the frothing corruption seeps into the air in churning eddies. You draw the Grief into a little sphere, something about the size of your fist, before you send it zipping away to join the rest of your Grief.
"Thank you," Homura murmurs quietly, the tension in her body unwinding a touch. "I'm..." she trails of for a moment, before continuing more strongly. "I'm not sure if I can offer any more insight."
"Homura," you say gently. "I ask because I value your opinion, and this is rather important. Even what you just said? 'Don't lie to her. Or to yourself.' That helps, Homura. It's... an insight I didn't really have before. You might not think much of it, but it really does help. And..." You pause, and wait for her to look at you before smiling. "You're the only person that I can both trust and talk to about all of this, you know?"
She exhales slowly, her eyes closing for a moment. "They don't hate each other. Not really," she murmurs.
You swipe at your face. "Mmm. Yeah," you say, walking over to her. "And... you know, Homura, you're a better judge of character than you might think. You have the most experience of... well, anyone, really. amd I do want to know what you think of things. I admit, we may not always agree." You meet her eyes, and smile at her. "But I do value your opinions, and hey. We're partners in this, right? Getting all our friends through this."
Homura nods slowly, looking preoccupied with a thought. You take a step back, giving her space to thing. A moment later, she speaks again, hesitantly and slowly. "There's one way."
"Oh?" you ask, perking up. Maybe there's something you could learn here?
"Shared grief," Homura says, looking away from you. "Miki Sayaka, usually."
"I-" you blink at her. "Oh. You mean..." Sayaka died?
She nods.
"Ah. Yeah. Let's... not let that happen," you say, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. "Um. I'm sorry for bringing up bad memories and making you uncomfortable. I... didn't mean to upset you."
Homura sighs. "It's alright."
In the silence that follows, you look back at the safe, and the little butler-blob of Grief you've packed full of cash and a few gold bars. You've got plenty here, honestly, and you're really not terribly sure what you're going to do with those gold bars - maybe literally throw one at Kyouko to see what happens. That being the case...
"I think I've got enough here," you say, sealing up the sphere of money and sending it away. "Homura? Do you need any? If not, I'm going to destroy the rest, too."
"No, I have plenty," she says with a shake of her head that sets her hair swishing behind her.
Concentration, a bare touch of it, has Grief swinging in, already blazing as luridly bright flame. You debate for a moment with yourself between the pros and cons of simply slagging the entire safe. All things considered, it isn't a bigger stunt than melting all their drugs. Or...
Your eyes sliiiiiide across to the katana, gleaming steel bright in defiance of the colour draining timestop. That is a nice katana...
You turn away from the safe, Grief fire set free from merely burning the contents of the safe and starting to spread hungrily across the entire monolithic slab of metal behind you.
"Oh, Homura~?" you lilt, stopping in front of the rack. You can feel the grin splitting your face. You glance at the yakuza thug -well, he's probably the local boss or something, but still a thug- before dismissing him. "Do you still have that mop?"
"The mop?" Homura asks, blinking at you before following your eyes to the katana. "The mop."
"The mop," you grin.
Homura shakes her head slowly, before reaching into her shield to produce said cleaning implement. You grin, taking it from her, and then snatching the katana from the rack and dropping the mop in its place. No, wait, you can do better than that - and you do need to remove fingerprints and stuff, anyway. You grab the mop again - this time, with Grief.
Grief whips across the surface of the mop, incredibly fine blades sandblasting across it in a blurring storm. To your eyes, it looks like a churning haze of deep purple surrounding the mop handle. But you can feel every single blade in your Grief senses, dancing and slicing and polishing at your direction.
The mop drops back to the rack, handle now gleaming, marred by the ratty head of string. Can't exatly do anything about that, though.
You take a step back, inspecting your handiwork and swishing the katana idly through the air.
A glance aside at Homura, who's looking... well, more than a little perplexed.
You thrust both arms out at the rack, and the frozen tableau of the yakuza, still solemnly kneeling in front of the mop. The katana barely misses scraping against the ceiling. "Eh? Eh?" you grin.
Homura stares, before shaking her head slowly. Her lips are quirked in a tiny, tiny smile of amusement, and you cheer silently at getting amusement out of Homura. Your own grin only broadens, and you laugh, twirling on the spot with your arms outstretched.
A hand catches your wrist, arresting your turn. "Watch the katana," Homura says, the smile still on her face.
"Heh," you chuckle. "Thanks."
She nods. "Are you going to keep that?" she asks.
You look at it. "I suppose so," you say, grinning. Moving slowly, you sheathe it at your hip - you're almsot certainly making a horrible mess of the proper forms, but oh well. Another sphere of Grief arrives, shaping itself into a long tube as a makeshift scabbard.
... Sakura's weapon is a katana, doesn't she?
You discard that thought, smiling at Homura. "So, anything left?"
She shakes her head. "That's all, I think."
"Then... shall we go?" you suggest.
"Yes," Homura agrees, starting for the door.
"Hey, Homura?" you say, a thought occuring to you as you step out of the room, reclaiming the Grief that melted the safe into so much glowing slag on the floor. "I meant to ask this earlier, but I forgot to - do you know where t find Sasa? For tomorrow, you know."
"No, I don't," she says. "I know roughly where she might be, but not where she lives."
"Ah. That works, too," you say.
A few minutes later, you're headed back home via Grief carpet. Your loot follows behind you, hidden away in the planetarium of Grief, and Homura's sitting beside you. She lets her legs dangle off the edge of the carpet, swinging idly in the air. "... Hey. Homura."
"Yes?" she says, glancing at you.
You smile at her. "Thanks for letting me come along. It was... really quite nice, spending time with you."
She glances at you, her expression more unguarded than you've seen with her awake. "Thank you for coming," she murmurs softly.
"Yeah. And... I'll be happy to tag along anytime you want, OK?" you add.
She nods again.
You let the conversation lapse for a while as you, speeding through the chill air of the timestop and watching the shrouded city roll by beneath you. It's always kind of cold in the timestop, you notice. Probably just an artifact of the magic, really.
"Say, Homura?" you say, breaking the silence again. "Was there anything odd about Elsa Maria's Barrier? That last Witch, I mean."
She frowns at you. "You asked me earlier."
"Yeah, I know, just..." You purse your lips. "There was... something odd. It almost seemed like someone was asking me who I was."
Homura's frown deepens, her earlier good mood fading. "That's not..."
"I know," you say with a grimace, leaning back on your hands, propped out behind you. "It's weird. And very worrying."
"Can you talk to Witches?" Homura asks. "If not, could it be the 'feather'?"
"I don't know," you say. "Talking to Witches... the last time I really tried anything close to that, the Witch metaphorically stabbed me in the brain with Grief. That was Hildegarde." You pull the clear Grief Seed from your pocket by way of demonstration.
"I see," Homura says, eyeing the Grief Seed in your hand. She shakes her head. "I didn't notice anything unusual about the Witch."
[] Write-in
=====​
Sayaka is a merguca. Or, you know, will be. Whatever. Also I googled this and to my immense surprise, there are no results.
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