Open!

[kirkhammer]

Who: Vivienne and YOU
When: Feb 7-11
Where: Around Caissa
What: Festivities are never easy. Pickpockets are even worse.
Rating: PG-13?



A: Feb 7

[Another festival? As she understood it, weren't they brought here to fight? To win a war? Why, in such dire times - dire enough that heroes need be called - is action not being taken?

Thoughts similar to those are what's circling Vivienne's mind as she helps one of the stalls perform their final set up before the festival truly begins. It seemed an easy enough task when she first read about it at the Town Plaza, but that was before they mentioned anything about food preparation. Following recipes is one thing, but some of these are extremely tedious and delicate, and patient as Vivienne can (selectively) be, she has a limit.

Which is why the stall owners have allowed her a break, and a small tray of dumplings, which she's now sitting with out the front of the stall. Should anybody curious walk up, Vivienne will tiredly murmur:]

They're not open.

[Except it probably isn't too convincing since she's.. you know, holding food.

Alternatively, feel free to catch her mid food prep!]

B: Feb 9

[Vivienne isn't the type to believe in things like fate, or destiny, and so the idea of a fortune is equally unreliable in her eyes. That's why she almost deadeyes the little slip of paper her Carrier - who she has finally named Gideon - insisted that she have. How it managed to get its little hands on it, she has no idea (though it likely just picked it up off the ground, as it's taken to doing), but she shakes her head as she reads it.

Unstable foundations forge stronger bonds.

It's nonsense, honestly. How can mere words on a slip of paper possibly foretell any coming event? It's impossible. Absolutely impossible, she thinks, as a slow splintering crack begins to fill the air. One of the wooden support beams at a stall begins to sag to one side, before giving way entirely and crashing down into the counters below, sending an array of fresh ingredients, hot cooked food and splintered wood into the air.

Some of the debris is heading Vivienne's way, and while she's normally much more alert, she's still thinking about unstable foundations and impossibility. Someone please yank her out of the way and tell her not to stand around like a deer caught in headlights. Though maybe not in those words - she won't have any idea what that means.]

C: Feb 11

[Recovering a lost item is a good way to not only make colle, but also to give herself something to do in her uneasy, restless state, and perhaps most importantly, properly acquaint herself with Caissa. The capital may be large, but she has to start somewhere. And the woman's request - "please bring back my pendant, it's a family heirloom! - sounded simple enough. But then the woman mentioned the culprit ran in the direction of the docks, which presents two problems:

1) Vivienne has no idea where the docks are in relation to her current location and 2) she can't swim. So if the pendant somehow managed to find its way into the water (and knowing her luck, it has), she's low on options.

Help a gal out? She's currently borrowing the ledge of the fountain in the Entertainment District, having unrolled a map of the capital she purchased, chin in hand. It's markings are smudged, and the roads seem unclear, but for only 15 colle (negotiated down from 25), you get what you paid for.]

[If you'd like to hash out any of the prompts with me beforehand, or come up with something completely different, feel free to contact me via PM or through plurk at paako!]

Comments

[kirkhammer]

[The impact forces a gasp out of her, but not much else. Not to say she isn't surprised by the sudden contact, she simply has a firm grasp on her emotional output.

Well, nearly anyway. Between regaining her balance and her own embarrassment at having spaced out so hideously, Vivienne actually can't help but furrow her brow at the odd display in front of her.]

No.

[That probably came out a little firmer than it needed to, but she's quite... perplexed.]

But-- Thank you.

[liberal_arts]

Are you sure? It'd be a shame to let such beautiful things go to waste...

[kirkhammer]

All the more reason you should enjoy that for yourself.

[Regaining her composure, she straightens out her coat, giving herself a quick once over for injuries or... food related mishaps. There is something she noticed though:]

You've quite the skill with a sword, to be able to perform such a feat.

[liberal_arts]

As is expected of me, I assure you.

[kirkhammer]

That is relieving to hear. Though I have not personally witnessed their individual strength, it would appear there are a no small number of children among us... 'heroes'.

[liberal_arts]

I can agree that children have no place in war, but here we all are, and there's no turning back, for the moment.

[kirkhammer]

No, not until we've some manner of returning to our homes.

My name is Vivienne. [And now a quick bow, though it's more a nod than anything.] I thank you for your actions earlier.

[liberal_arts]

I am given the name Kasen. And there is little need to thank me. Like I said before... it would be a shame to let such a beautiful thing go to waste.

[kirkhammer]

[If that, by chance, happens to be some form of flattery, it flies straight over her head... not too used to that kind of thing, this one.]

You were given your name? Were you not born with it?

[liberal_arts]

A tool is only given a name when their creation is finished.

[kirkhammer]

[Squint.]

Are you telling me you consider yourself a tool?

[liberal_arts]

It's not a matter of consideration. It simply is.

[kirkhammer]

Yet you appear human.

[liberal_arts]

This form you witness was given unto me by a saniwa.

[kirkhammer]

Then what are you?

[liberal_arts]

I am the sword Kasen Kanesada, forged by Nosada, weld by Hosokawa Tadaoki.

[kirkhammer]

[The names mean nothing to her, of course, though she does note they sound eerily similar in origin to the weapons of Cainhurst...]

And for what purpose are you given sentience? I have always been told a sword's strength lies in its wielder.

[liberal_arts]

To fight a terrifying enemy that threatens the history of Japan.

[kirkhammer]

The history, you say?

[liberal_arts]

Yes. The enemy is one who has gone into Japan's past to make ruin of it and establish their own order.

[kirkhammer]

And so you were... created to battle this threat. [A moment as she considers.] Were our circumstances not equally strange, I would otherwise have dismissed that as absurd.

Yet I've no method of discerning if what you say is a lie.

[That's how she says she'll accept it. She doesn't really get it, but. It's fine.]

[liberal_arts]

Oh, no no, I was created as a work of art, presented to a daimyo. The form you see now is more a result of the threats to my home, given to me by my Saniwa.

[kirkhammer]

You were made in gift?

[liberal_arts]

My creator was a tremendously respected artist, and I was presented as a gift to the presiding daimyo of the region he lived in.

[kirkhammer]

[What a personal affront!!!!! Swords are for fighting!!!! So rude!!!!!]

Yet you are capable of feats such as the one earlier. ["You" she says, as if he was sentient then. This is a little complicated...] Is that not a waste of such prowess?