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Mizuki     The world has grown extremely sluggish. No winds blow as the visitors approach the Gothic steeple of Silent Night, but one might certainly find within the atmosphere a sort of unpleasant chill. It's the cold a hand might feel if it were to rest itself upon the brow of a corpse, or upon entry into a mausoleum cloaked in Winter. Rather than awaiting the withdrawal of a number, the ever encroaching white that has long since set upon this land's consumption beats but miles away from the furthest extremes of the so-called 'Silent City' which contains this library, so the 'why' of that may quickly become clear. The world, of its own devices, is dying. Its expiration is visible and steady in its approach, and if one were to but glimpse the distance between the ivory-stained grass and the Clock Tower they would immediately know the time they do not have.

    There is no life anywhere now, and each of the visitors would know this intuitively. The distinct warmth one feels in a space occupied by other people is absent, and any traveler would know that nothing beyond themselves lingers any longer. Nothing native to this place, at least; they might still find some life within the walls they seek, but that would be the extent of it. More unnerving still, the most astute among them might realize splotches of a like absence that have begun to eat at the shapes and colors of the skyscrapers that carve the narrow passages and streets. 'I am near,' Would whisper the End, 'and there is no escape from Me.'

    As is the custom, the doors to the building proper have been left open wide, the expanse hidden beyond a welcoming fire to ward the frost gathering on the world's glass. Unusually, though, Fenestra is gone; nowhere can she be seen tending the books. Another noticeable loss in the atmosphere is that of the gentle trickle of the fountain which used to pervade the area as its only clear, continuous noise, though this is for a much more apparent purpose; the statuettes at the fountain's peek have been moved aside to reveal an opening. Like a well, it is thin and cylindrical, only wide enough for its ladder to be traversed by one person at a time.

    Still, once people are through to the other side, they would find themselves in a stone alcove built into an infinitely larger spiral. Shelves upon shelves of books stretch infinitely down into the heart of creation as though their collective record had been kept since well beyond the origin of all recollection. Metal-clad lights lie ensconced on the wooden interstices between each horizontal collection of volumes, extrapolating themselves just so much as to light the stairways down and, perhaps, to hint at the existence of an equally endless scroll that finds itself hung in the room's central abyss.

    One could walk on forever and never find an end to this place, so it's a good thing that Mizuki catches them just a slight ways down. She would pull the group aside to another notch in the walls of leather and page, revealing from an elongated sleeve a keyring. She would choose a platinum one ending in a crescent bound by a thin metal circle, placing it into the complementary keyhole of an ornate door lain into the wall. It would slide open to another hall and door which would emerge again into another, and another, and another, which persist in this fashion until the group has surpassed seven such barriers. At the end of it all they would reach a smaller room with a dome-shaped ceiling and another massive tome levitating above a pedestal as the tome of the future before it.
Mizuki     This one is not brilliant at all -- rather, it's in dismal condition. Its pages are tattered, its binding worn away to reveal mold that has grown upon its brown-gray covering. This ragged exterior is inlaid with a tarnished gold frame that conceals the portrait of a lady within shattered glass, though her features have long since been obscured by the rot of time and the anonymity of the innumerable. More like those before it, though, it's bound by belts and locks that keep its thoughts from mingling with those of the larger realm. Only when they are ruptured would one be allowed to glimpse its insides, but before they can be, Mizuki would incline her gaze and sigh.

    "Most of you are accustomed to this pattern by now, but for Staren and Ayako, a primer. This book is currently sealed. When I am given your indication, I will unlock it. The moment it opens, it shall absorb you into its midst. I cannot accurately predict what will happen when this transpires, so if you fear any lasting harm to your mind or body, this shall be your only warning not to persist in this endeavor." She would give each mentioned personage a lasting look before proceeding. "Now, the part the majority of you has not heard yet. This book is perhaps the most insipid of all -- rather than hinting toward my reservations and desires, it will show, outright, things that have actually transpired. To the fullest extent that anything can be, these are Facts. Come what may, I feel a need to be candid about at least this much."

    "Be that as it may, though," She would continue, arms wrapped behind her back, "things are a bit more complex than one might expect. Certainly these are all my memories, but they are not all -mine- either. That's to say, some of them belong to previous incarnations of myself. I do not fully understand why these alternatives exist, but it is and has been my assumption that they entered into battle with Apathy in the past and lost. Consequently, their thoughts were erased, and the world flung back to tabula rasa. As such, there is a very good likelihood that you may emerge from this venture with a greater understanding of my past than even I possess. A... somewhat unnerving prospect, if I may say so without committing some grave offense."

    After that last word she would take a deep, deep breath, and exhale. The extremely astute may realize a slight quiver to her features, and a slight jittering of her left leg. "... this is the penultimate number. Once it is in our grasp, there is only the one we have reserved with Melody awaiting our retrieval." Another, fretful pause is given. "I've no doubt you all noticed it when you came in, but time is of the essence. The whiteness has begun to spread forth from the dead tissue of my beating heart, and in the span of but a month it will reach my Clock Tower. If this occurs before we've done what we must, I must assume... we fail. Whatever that entails will transpire, and there is a morosely high probability my world and I will be lost to you forever in that happenstance. Knowing the danger of my circumstances, I cannot help but thank you all, again. You are quite literally fighting to save my life with every move you make, and I am thankfully not to callous as to be able to overlook the gravity of that."

    Her voice finally spent, she would lower her gaze and step off to the side. She would retrieve her ring again and pick out a silver key ending in an elliptical mirror. This is presumably the one she will use to open the bindings of the book. "At your ready," Would be the final, solemn utterance she gives before releasing her guests to their deliberation.
Kimiko Shinobu     Despite all--or because of it--Kimiko is here, once more. Arrival without reservation, but for that of her ever-present nature. The cold must be continuing in her little corner of another world, for her expression is yet further hidden by a generously wide scarf, wrapped over chin and lips, her hair's tails coming down over it. Just a silver-haired, winter-clad girl, nothing to see here.

    "Ready." Confirmation was requested, and is therefore given.
Staren     "Well, /that's/ creepy..." Staren mutters to the cold an emptiness as he arrives. He starts shifting shapes, but his heart's not in it -- he shifts back to normal, with winter clothing including a parka in place of labcoat and heavier pants.

    "What /happened/? What about all the people we saved from the floating island?" Staren asks, as he descends into the secret chamber.

    Learning that there may be... lasting harm gets a >:| expression. "Well..." he sighs. "Maybe it's foolish, but what am I gonna do, back out /now/?" He looks up at the ceiling. "The Multiverse hasn't screwed me up yet, and I'm not alone. If this book screws me up, I can count on my friends to fix it, right?" He runs a hand through his hair and rubs the back of his neck a bit nervously anyway.

    He gives a little shrug at the admission that even Mizuki is unnerved. "Nah, it's quite understandable. We wouldn't peek in your head if it weren't an emergency, just like you wouldn't in ours. Besides, you asked us to, just like I asked you."

    Staren looks around, and takes a deep breath, and lets it out. "Ready as I'll ever be."
Homura Akemi     As usual, requests for help from Mizuki have crept up Homura's priority list; repeated involvement, and a desire not to drop something halfway in, being huge parts of that, but then there's the simple fact Mizuki is hardly someone you just want to leave to rot. That's why, in her traditional method of 'stealing a ride from Psyber' and/or 'basically living in his shadow because it's comfortable there and light bothers her', Homura is present, dressed today in simple jeans with a purple and white blouse. Can't look nice and formal every day.

    The state of the world isn't missed; though she has no noteworthy ability to feel things like life and death, it doesn't take a genius to tell things are awfully wrong all the same. She avoids commenting, though, because it won't solve anything. They're running out of time and whining about it isn't going to help.

    Mizuki selects her book and explains; so it's her past, then. Or the past, in general. Prior incarnations, always a mess to deal with, especially when there's no information to work off of.

    "Ready as well," Homura eventually answers.
Faruja For once, Faruja doesn't enter with reassurances. No, the Priest looks well and openly worried after the last book they made use of. And if the world outside is any indication. Not to mention more than a little angry. Near-silent for the entire walk, the book before them gets a baleful stare.

"...I couldst not say that I do not desire to turn that book into ash. At every turn this world devours itself, yourself, and I think we all agree that it is time to make that cease." His hand grips his Blaze Gun, tail lashing.

As for dangers? Faruja just gives a bitter little chuckle. "Come now, mine dear, 'tis hardly the time for poor jests. What is more suffering against a friend's life? None in this room will walk away." Here, Faruja gives a nod to everyone.

"Let us get this done before my temper overtakes me. God walk with us."
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako blinks her eyes as she enters Mizuki's world. The change from the last time she entered is just so drastic! Her amber eyes look around slowly as she takes in the whiteness and the chill of a dying world. No life. The world itself being consumed.

    A small frown crosses her face as well as a hint of something else. What emotion is it? It's difficult to say. It's not an emotion Ayako emulates often, nor frequently. But if one were to look really hard, it could be recognized as recalling an unpleasent memory. Said emotion doesn't last particularly long however, and Ayako smiles softly in defiance of the dying world, hoping to at least bring some cheer and comfort to Mizuki. Did she force herself a bit? Yes. But her amber eyes never wavered in their cheerful kindness the whole time. After all, how can she hope to cheer up someone else if she herself isn't cheerful?

    Ayako follows after the group into the doors of the building proper and smiles softly at the fire. At least this place still is welcoming! Rather than take the ladder, she just floats down the opening. Landing lightly on her feet, she gazes around... so many books!

    "Hello Mizuki!" Ayako offers a bright smile. To Ayako, happiness starts with a smile, after all. She follows after the others into the room that Mizuki unlocked and then quietly listens as Mizuki explains, nodding her head slowly with each sentance. "The truth... is not always a nice thing." Her eyes close halfway as she glances downwards for a moment. "The past, sometimes is something people wish could just die." She then smiles softly at Mizuki, "But we'll do our best to make sure you don't die, Mizuki!"

    Ayako nods her head once. "I'm ready!"
Arthur Lowell     There's already nobody left here. This gives Arthur a hell of a somber look when he slips down that ladder. Where is Fenestra? He remembers she's supposed to be here. What happened? He hopes that she's OK. And then the alcove, through which Arthur wanders, likely a fair bit behind the rest of the group for a while all things considered, still simberly somberly looking around, especially at that scroll.

    And now the book. Arthur's already starting off out of Coolkid Mode today, just because of the intense atmosphere of slow death on the air. "Hey, Mizuki. Don't... Don't worry. I know how this is. Like the future one, try not to... get too judgy about it. Yeah. No big." There's a heavy sigh. "Jeeze. I really... Really hope the rest of you guys can find out what I know, kinda. I'd rather not go into the end of this stuff without that." He looks and sounds terribly uneasy, unsettled. "I'm ready, Mimi." He says, firmly.

    There's a bit of curiosity nagging at him, though. "Hey. What happened to that librarian chick? Everything stilll...?" He's not really sure what to ask here. And then back to Staren. "They're at the clocktower, they didn't come here. I think they'll pull through. If, um, we can pull something off."
Riva Banari "Turning and turning in the widening gyre,
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world."

Riva looks upon the lifeless, disintegrating land. Her expression is grim, but she moves on with the others into yet another realm of books and endless words. Still, the sight of the current environment seems to be taking its toll on her good cheer. She doesn't quote Yeats for just /anything/, after all.

Mizuki explains what's on the line, and Riva stands firm, nodding. "This isn't going to be for nothing, Mizuki. We're going to make it happen. That's why we're all here, after all." She smiles then, marshalling some of that brightness even in this grim situation, and nods to her. "Believe in us, and we believe in you. That's how friends work, right?"

She slams a fist into her palm in anticipation, working herself up to what is to come. "All right, let's DO THIS."
Priscilla     Every time Priscilla comes here, it makes her a little more sad. She still remembers what Mizuki's private paradise used to look like, even if she had seen only bits and pieces. Though the cold phyiscally means nothing to her, what it represents is honestly worse. Increasingly she finds herself worrying about Mizuki's wellfare, which isn't aided by the author's grim pronunciation of the inherent dangers of the task they're undertaking. Putting a solid limit of time on it makes it much more serious, to the point of being nerve wracking.

    "As Sir Staren sayeth, not one of us is likely to abandon thee, especially at this juncture. If it is necessary, it will be done. Whilst the promise of seeing such recollections is perhaps even interesting, I sincerely doubt any of us willst hold anything of past lives against the one thou currently livest"
Mizuki     As always, the expression with which Mizuki greets Kimiko and Homura is a bit austere, though the look she gives the former may seem a trifle... fretful? At the least, she's glad the the previous few ventures haven't perturbed her so much as to cost this world her aid, but she can't help wondering what she's thinking. She's a person of principle -- it's unlikely she would abandon this task she's undertaken over some simple personal reservations, so she cannot be sure at all that she's doing this for any reason but to fulfill a promise of honor. If that is so, Mizuki would not be at all offended, but she can't help worrying over the impression she's made even so.

    Staren gets a look next, and a nod. Softly, Mizuki intones, "Hello, Staren. It feels as though I haven't seen you in an age." She would give him a tired but warm smile. "It's good of you to stay the course even knowing the risks, but if at any point you no longer feel inclined to do so, do not let entrapment become your only reason to return. Earnestly, I would hate to see that happen." Then, Faruja gets the usual smile. When she finally finds it within herself to conjure words, she would simply say, "May He give you the strength with which to forestall Ouroboros. For all our sakes."

    Ayako is next, though she can't quite conjure the words to respond to her. In lieu of anything more original, she would simply squeeze her eyes shut a moment before gently adding, "Let us just hope that what you learn will serve some purpose beyond my torment." Mizuki would proceed to reciprocate Arthur's nod, and say something that might ease his mind somewhat: "Fenestra is the personification of the library. As such, even when you cannot resolve her image, she yet lives. She will continue to do so until this library ceases to be, and given its prevalence is tantamount to that of the Clock, I somehow doubt she will be leaving us any time soon." She tries to smile as she says this. It's a smile of sympathy rather than that old, coy one she used to wear. Truly, the change in its nature is more indicative of the change withing her than perhaps anything else.

    Mizuki would not respond to Riva with words, but she does briefly hold out her hand to the girl. Were Riva to reciprocate the gesture, she would take hers and squeeze it gently, bowing her head so that her eyes can't be seen. More and more the lady seems to be acting as though she were a terminally ill patient lying on her deathbed rather than the boisterous woman of whimsy she might have before. After she lets go of her hand, though, she would look to Priscilla, too, would see this smile, though her reassurances might coax a final sentence. "Your mercy is more than I deserve, Priscilla. Thank you."

    After another deep breath, Mizuki would slowly, carefully approach the book, slowly placing her key into the hole of the largest lock on the tome's front. She would hesitate again at this step, but only for a second before the die is cast. The thing would whip open, but rather than sucking those around it in as it had before, a sort of... discoloration creeps out of it. Every article of furniture and every tile of the floor is coated in something akin to sepia -- a faded mish-mash of brown and tan that is eerily reminiscent of the condition of old movie reels. Mizuki's form would become paper thin, floating toward the book at the beckoning of some unseen wind. At this point, though, some might notice the book has transformed into a door with an odd cross whose edges end in swirls mounted at its top. 'Mizuki' would slip through the small crack at its left side, leaving the rest of them gathered there.
Mizuki     In Mizuki's absence, there is now another girl. She's seated in the center of the room. At this point, though, that world is hardly distinct enough to -have- a center; rather, it's become an infinite expanse of darkness whose only defining features are six doors. Each one provides no express hints at its contents through form, each one being completely mundane, plain, and made of the same colors that have thrust themselves out of the book to begin with. The only sound to echo through the area now is the quiet sound of the girl's book as she cycles through a page, and then her voice as she interrupts the atmosphere to impose her voice upon them all.

    "Greetings." She's monotoned, her expression unmoving. "I will be your guide this evening. Firstly, though, I would request that you look at your dominant hand. Each of you should find there a brand which will decide the memory you are allowed to witness. Its shape will correspond to that of one of the symbols I shall burn into the doors. A moment." Without facing them, the girl would raise her hand. Gleaming white shapes would indeed burn themselves on to the otherwise plain doors, and would indeed match the figures that soon appear on the backs of each person's hand.

    PRISCILLA and RIVA would find a vaguely humanlike shape there, akin to a voodoo doll, which also exists on the WESTERNMOST DOOR.

    HOMURA would find the image of a bird flying from its cage, shared by a door immediately counterclockwise of the former.

    KIMIKO would find the image of a tree, its branches devoid of leaves. This one is also on the EASTERNMOST DOOR.

    ARTHUR would aptly find a clock on his hand without a single number -- only notches exist to mark its face. This is also exists on the NORTHEASTERN DOOR, beside the one Mizuki flew in to.

    AYAKO and STAREN would each see a star which also exists on the SOUTHEASTERN DOOR.

    And, finally, FARUJA would see a weighing scale, its left tray dipped far below the right one, this image shared by the SOUTHERMOST DOOR.

    The hand of the girl in the center of the room would lower back to her lap, and she would again regard her book. Idly, she would comment, "You've your respective directions. I will meet each of you on the other side of the doors to instruct you further. Until then, farewell."
Staren     Staren scratches the back of his head. "I'll put it straight then -- I find it /highly unlikely/ that what awaits us inside is more than all of us together can handle /and/, even in the worst case, is more than /everyone who can mount a rescue mission/ can handle." He shrugs. "There's always a small chance that something could go catastrophically wrong. If we let every one of those chances stop us... well, noone would get anything done!" He smiles.

    The book starts draining the color out of the world. "Uhh, is it supposed to do that?" And then paper Mizuki. "Um, uhhh... well okay, I guess."

    And then what happens next is ordained from on high. Staren looks at the girl and sighs. "I don't suppose you're going to explain who you are... Probably past Mizuki... I guess we gotta just go with it." he looks at his hand, and walks to the door, and raises a curious eyebrow at Ayako... then he looks around and shouts, "GOOD LUCK, EVERYBODY!" before opening the door.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako smiles softly at Mizuki. "And I hope what I do learn can help ease your torment as well, Mizuki." She watches Mizuki unlock the book and blinks her eyes quickly at the sepia that seems to leak out of it.

    And then the world changes. Ayako curtsies politely to the girl seated in the center of the darkness. "Good evening." She blinks her eyes quickly as she looks at both of her hands, looking for the mark as indicated. "Ah." Her steps quickly head towards the SOUTHEASTERN DOOR and she gives a soft smile to Staren, who also approaches the door. "Yup. Let's just go with it."

    "To help Mizuki!" Ayako adds cheerfully to Staren's shout. Oh how gentlemanly, Staren. She enters the door once Staren opens it.
Faruja Faruja's brow rises. "I do suppose a serpent, no matter how hungry, is better than the apocalypse. We will toast victory over fried ouroboros."

Then the rodent lets things begin. Even he can't help but gasp a bit at the strangeness of it all. When the seeping colors end, and they arrive with the page-turning girl, Faruja looks her over curiously.

A glance to Staren. "...Such would make sense. Keep faith Sers and Dames." It's about then that he does as the woman directs, looking to his hand. There's a weighed scale. He can't help but smirk. The rat's far too tense.

"My, my, my! A scale, is it? Am I to be thine judge, dear Mizuki, or art ye to be mine in this!?" Then, he'll offer a bow to the woman.

"Once more into the breach, as ye humans say." With that, he'll quite literally kick down the door.

"INQUISITION!" He yells, fully drawing on his occupations mantle, face severe and with barely restrained fury. Faruja, is in fact, /very/ worried.
Kimiko Shinobu     Kimiko is at least vaguely aware of Mizuki's concern over her--it's not really all that difficult to see--but this knowledge does not incline her to reveal her thoughts. Few things do. Relatedly, however, she gives a slow nod at the words of several, Priscilla lastly, agreeing. "We will do what we must." A statement that carries a very different meaning from one person to another.

    Her eyes shift to either side as the area transforms, turning slowly in place to track the full extent of the changes, and then returning to rest upon the new figure. At her words, Kimiko looks upon her right hand. "I see," is all she says in response. She barely spares for a glance for the others here before she turns toward the East, and walks to her appointed revelation. There is little, she thinks, to fear in truth.
Homura Akemi     Homura can't help but think, even if this is a 'fake' world insofar as they're inside a book now, it is kind of rude to slap symbols on people's hands like that. It's a stray thought of absolutely no import, it's just the first thing that pops into her mind. The second is that imagery depicting a bird escaping its cage is ominous as hell. Or it's a just a bird and a cage, which alone aren't very ominous.

    Without wasting time, and generally not feeling luck will have much to do with this, the dark-haired girl follows thecue of the symbol on her hand to her respective door, in order to open it and step through. There's no use questioning the new girl right now; they'll get time to as things move along, and that should feel more natural.
Riva Banari Riva takes Mizuki's hand, squeezing her hand warmly in return. This only seems to steel her determination as she straightens. Mizuki might expect a sudden hugbomb from Riva, but it looks like she's going to wait on that thought for a bit...

And everything changes, as the past becomes the subject of the present. It takes her a little bit to get used to this new distortion in space and causality. Even when you've seen several of them, Riva just seems to be easy to knock out of her groove. The girl within the book gives them their instructions, and Riva raises a hand to speak, then blinks as she looks at her hand. "Huh. Well, um... okay!" She doesn't seem like she's inclined to stay and chat too much here. The girl seems to prefer to handle things a certain way, and she has no reason to do it otherwise.

She looks to the others, and nods. "Good luck, everyone. Let's do this right!" She waves farewell to her friends and allies (and frallies? Alliends?) as she heads to the person-door and opens it up to head through with Priscilla.
Priscilla     "Mercy is a strange way of putting it." Priscilla replies. "Such implies that I shouldst possess a reason to punish thee." There's not much room to say anything else before the book is unsealed, leaving her thankful that it forgoes the process of a violent, all-consuming vortex. Simply being able to go through a door is much more pleasant. She fixes the new girl with a blank stare, already suspiciously wondering whether this is some form of past Mizuki or simply another interpretation of the present one, as had been in the Book of the Future.

    Predictably, she looks to the back of her hand the moment it is mentioned, watching as the 'brand' shimmers into existence against her skin, and then looking around to see if anyone shares it, correctly estimating that there are too few doors for the number of people gathered. Rather than asking out loud, she simply moves over to the door at 9 o'clock, waiting by it to see if anyone joins her. Only when Riva joins her does she decide to move through, guessing that three people to one door is unlikely.
Arthur Lowell     Arthur seems palpably relieved. Well thank goodness the crawling end didn't get her. And so, he can continue into the world of the book... Or the world of the book can, apparently, continue to him. The new presence, one that's more unfamiliar, gets him right back into his COOLKID MODE in order to not seem weak about this, and he grins, saying, "Well HELL, who're YOU then?" He pulls back his mage robe sleeve and looks down at his own hand, as if he were examining a watch on his wrist. "Oh HEY, look at the TIME. Guess maybe you can answer that on the OTHER SIDE." He's gonna head through his own door, taking broad strides. There's a bit of a nod to Staren and Riva. "GOOD LUCK, guys!" And then an encouraging, albeit generic sort of "YEAH!" Cheer behind Ayako and Faruja's calls.
Mizuki     The girl on the chair would turn another page of her book. "I am a splinter of Mizuki's personality left to parse the countless volumes of information stored in this place. My purpose extends no further to this, and I have no name by which you may know me. I would advise you not to concern yourself with me, and to ask instead how I may help you." Those present would likely identify this as a response to Staren and Arthur even though she still stubbornly refuses to make eye contact with any of them. The others don't seem to provoke as much response, however, and she would allow them all to disperse shortly thereafter.

    PRISCILLA and RIVA'S door would enter in to a rather familiar place: the top of Mizuki's clock tower. The image at its stained glass is the same. The immense portraits hung upon the walls, too, are the same. Even that red satin couch Mizuki treats as her throne is there, and the owner of this edifice before it. Since the pair of them appear at the opposite extreme of the room near the elevator it's a bit hard to make out the shape beside her, but one might riddle it to be Palora given the pink hair. As they would approach, though, they would notice her eyes are closed, and her expression is far more peaceful than any would reasonably think her capable of managing.

    STAREN and AYAKO would find themselves... underwater! Though neither or them would float away, and Staren would have no especial difficulties breathing. They seem to be amid what could be thought of as a forest of colored coral, the 'branches' of each colored structure arcing overhead. Ayako might well remember this as the seabed the group traversed to reach the Mystical Waterway so many months ago. However, said city is noticeably absent. Mizuki is not, however, and she seems to be suspended in the air distantly forward of and above them, arms wrapped behind her back. She's flanked by another familiar figure: The Artist.

    FARUJA would find himself in the long, winding halls of the House of Jurisprudence where the group had, toward the beginning of this journey, confronted the Arch Curate. Said woman would be seated in the risen chair of the judge, a lustrous wooden gavel lain atop the podium. Mizuki would be standing in the field of the plaintiff beside a girl who looks familiar, but Faruja might struggle to mark the features of. Eventually, though, he might identify this girl as the one who had called herself 'Telephone'. Only, in this time, her hair is still filled with a blond color, and her dress is adorned with equally colorful frills and ribbons. Slowly, Mizuki would make her way to the center of the room, staring at the wavering, indiscernible shape of a human creature in the defendant's seat. Her look is painfully indignant.

    KIMIKO would emerge in to a much more unfamiliar landscape. It seems to be a field -- long, stretching, and undefined. Husks of trees quite similar to the one that she saw on the door would dot the landscape here, one of them providing meager quantities of shade for a small girl who has curled pitifully against its trunk. Her form is quivering, and her long, straight hair is a mess. Her dress seems to have been fine, once, but now it exists in little more than tatters that give a vague, mournful impression of what might once have been. Again, Mizuki is here. She begins some paces away from the girl, but she eventually comes closer, kneeling beside the shivering one. She would gingerly begin to stroke her hair, abating her tremulous convulsions just slightly.
Mizuki     HOMURA's vision would at first be obscured by the flailing of a translucent white curtain that billows before a window she is apparently facing. Should she look the other way, though, she would find the realm quiet, and ivory casing that locks every one of its proud features in place. Though this is but a single, humble, dome-like room itself, it is clear from the ethereal marble that makes up the entire structure that this must be some sort of palace. Likewise, the doors are finely carved and Gothic, their own whiteness contrasted only by golden border lines and knobs. This pair is already opened, though, revealing the likeness of two young women. One looks similar to Mizuki, but her hair reaches only to her shoulders, and her eyes are a lustrous green. In her lap she holds an even younger girl, herself possessing platinum blond hair and differently colored eyes -- one is blue, and the other red.

    ARTHUR would appear... in front of the Clock Tower. However, there's a noticeable difference in the feeling of the world. It's... nostalgic? Almost, even though he has no personal attachment to the new environment whatsoever. Here he would see a congregation of young women gathered in a circle, all of them levitating before the Clock's Face. They seem to be talking about something, but he's likely too far as of now to make out their words.

    Once all of them have had their time to acclimate to their new environments, the brown-haired girl would appear again. To each of them, she would say precisely the same thing: "Here you will see phantoms of the past. They can not see you, and you cannot directly interact with them. At the end of this vision, you will receive another key themed after the symbol you saw upon entry. Each of the others will receive different keys as well, and each of you will then be returned to the Nexus of Doors from whence you entered. These keys will open a final door wherein you will find the number, and your method of leaving." Her arms would wrap behind her back, and she would continue to stare off in some direction - any direction - that would not bring her to look at her visitors.

    Further, "The recollection will pause, at intervals, and you will be counted upon to find an object -- a memento -- that will progress the vision. The content of the conversations you are privy to will hint at the object you seek, but if all else fails I will be open for consultation at any point in time. I may deliver hints in the forms of riddles, or I may simply point you to the answer. All of this depends on the context of the situation, but it is my duty to ensure that you are able to persist in your acquisition of data, and I will never abandon you so long as you remain here."

    Finally, she would finish, "If you've no further questions, the memory will now begin."
Kimiko Shinobu     Kimiko walks through the door, and takes in her surroundings, up until the guide reappears. While the other refuses to look directly at her, Kimiko stares at not-Mizuki for some long moments, yet without speaking further in response. The only confirmation that she's heard these instructions is that she turns away again as the speech finishes.

    The raggedly-clothed figure draws her attention, and the Puella Magi quickens her steps until she's come to kneel down by her side. "Who are you, then?" Yes, she was told she could not interact with these. That didn't stop her last time a dream-guide said basically the same thing. As other-Mizuki approaches, she looks up, but doesn't move from her position, now remaining by both of them as she awaits whatever portion of this memory is next.
Staren     Staren blinks at the water, but he doesn't seem particularly alarmed, since he /has/ been here. Sort of. He knows you can breathe underwater in dreams, anyway. "Mizuki?" He starts to approach, when... the Book? The Book-Lady? The Splinter speaks again. "You say all you can do is show memories, but you were able to answer our question. I wonder what other questions you can answer? Like why do your memories need a hidden-object-finding minigame?" He peers at the Splinter. "If you turn out to be more than you appear later, I'm going to be kicking myself."
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako glances back at the girl on the chair. "Hmm... although... that seems kind of lonely to be left with just a lot of books..."

    As Ayako enters the door she blinks her eyes quickly when she finds herself underwater! She glances around quickly... and then smiles softly as she recognizes the seabed. There's no city here, huh...? Ah. There's Mizuki, though!

    Ayako quickly emerges out of the water and floats up and over to Mizuki. In a moment, the broom she usually rides on pops out of her witch hat and she sits down on it, almost as an afterthought. "Mizuki!" No response from her, huh? She tries to tap the Mizuki on the shoulder but her hand just goes right through her!

    When the brown-haired girl reappears, Ayako looks straight towards her. "A-ahh... they're phantoms of the past." She nods her head slowly and then looks out and around, making sure to pay attention to what's being shown!
Riva Banari Riva enters the new area, and looks over the new, somewhat more unreal than normal clock tower. "Huh. Well, this looks familiar, but..." She looks into the distance. Priscilla has probably noticed it before her, she's always been more attentive than Riva.

She is about to move towards the people when the unknown girl appears and describes the situation to them. After a moment, Riva sidesteps, testing to see if she can get the girl to look at her, leaning over a bit but not doing anything extreme. "Hmmm... You're a straightforward one. What's your name?" She asks the girl. "I'm ready when Lady Priscilla is, but..." She straightens, and looks over to the half-dragoness. "I guess we're going to be playing I Spy." She comments, not really expecting Priscilla to get it immediately. She nods. "All right. Let's make it happen."
Faruja Faruja /laughs/ as he steps into the room, that demeanor melting away.

"So then..." He says as he turns to their Guide. A small bow to the woman.

"In the jury box, is it? Fine. I prefer Judge or Execution, but it is in God's hands."

A nod of understanding. "Please begin. Forgive the lack of manners, but I am eager to save the rest of you as it were."
Mizuki     The Guide would look to STAREN, expression still frozen in place. "I did not say I could only show you memories. I said that my duty was to assist in the parsing of them. At times, that necessitates some form of linguistic aid. Were I only meant to show you this book's contents, there would be no reason for me to manifest in a visible form at all -- it would work equally well for me to exist as an unseen force that propels you forward. As far as the 'game' is concerned, it is a learning mechanism that was created by Mizuki when she was using these volumes to learn about her own past. Seeing as it is inextricably linked to this book now, it is unlikely it could be removed without her conscious intervention."

    AYAKO'S hand would indeed phase through Mizuki, but almost as soon as she recoils from the attempt the lady would begin to speak. "May I see what you had in mind now? Or must I live ever longer in suspense?" She looks to the Artist with a smile as the latter unfurls a scroll. It's an extremely precise sketch of the intended structure of the city. "Believe me, I am every bit as eager to see this through as you are. We've no need for more 'suspense'."

    "Then, shall I begin~?" The Artist would nod, and Mizuki's hands would set upon a certain task. The warbling outline of the city depicted on the scroll would begin to form. First, the spire of the palace would begin to resolve, then the canals that run through it, and then the smaller buildings at the base. Each figure, though, is colorless -- they appear much as they would had they been tainted by the absence that comes after numbers are withdrawn. "Ah," Would remark the artist, "I suppose this is my cue, then." She would reach into her smock... but would find nothing.

    There and then, the memory would pause. The land would dye itself monochrome, and the Guide would speak up again. "You must find the relevant object to proceed," She echoes.
Priscilla     Indeed Priscilla does notice it first, and indeed, she has no idea what I Spy is. She makes sure she doesn't show it though. Just pretend you get the reference. At the sight of Riva trying to interpose herself into plain sight, Priscilla shakes her head a little. "I am willing to believeth our host on this topic. Influencing a vision of the future is possible because the future stems from the present, but the past hast already been set in stone. These exist as monuments to view, rather than simulations to be interacted with. There is not much point to anything but immersion here." That said, she is pretty interested in who the figure is here. Confident that neither she nor Palora(?) will kick up a fuss if they can't see her, she waltzes right on up to the front desk to try and get a good look at the one on the couch.
Homura Akemi     A palace-- or so she assumes.
    If anything, it's beautiful. Not too surprising; Mizuki is the sort of person whose dwelling and world is anything but simple and rustic. And this is, in a way, Mizuki's past. Evidently, her prior incarnations shared her taste for good housing.

    "I have no questions, unless you are willing to go into your identity. The denizens of Mizuki's world all seem to fill important roles; I should think you no different. Guide is a vague vocation."

    But that's an aside. If the Guide doesn't want to explain yet, she's as ready as she'll be. She expected to be able to interact with the past, but... guess it'll be a matter of watching instead of meddling.
Mizuki     KIMIKO attempts to speak with the girl, but she does not respond. It's not entirely clear, however, whether this is truly because of the limitations of the dream, or because she's simply too weak to move. Mizuki would take the ailing girl into her arms, but before she begins to speak, the Guide would step beside Kimiko. "I may make it so you can intervene with this memory, but if I do so, it will become an alternative interpretation of what has transpired. This may dramatically alter the memory of she who experienced this, or it may do nothing it all. In either event, though, it will likely make it more difficult for you to retrieve your key. As such, I cannot recommend your doing so."

    Assuming she allows the vision to progress beyond this moment without requesting the rights to interact, though, Mizuki would begin to speak. "It's alright." Her voice is soft as cream. "Though now is a time of trial, soon all will be well. As I promised before, if you leave this world now, you may live on with me in mine. You have nothing to fear in passing, and you have nothing to fear now; I hold you. You are safe. Do not doubt this for even a moment." Weakly, the ailing girl would nod in response. She continues shaking, but she slowly, gradually does less as time goes by. Though Mizuki would eventually make an observation: "-- ah. You've lost it. Your stuffed animal." She would rise from her spot, gingerly laying the girl in an upright position against the bark of the tree.

    And then the flashback would freeze. "You must find the relevant object to proceed," She parrots.
Staren     Staren gives the Splinter a blank look, but seems to accept this, not asking further questions. When the figures move, Staren flies over to look over Mizuki's shoulder.

    And it pauses. "Dye. Paints, or something." He looks around. "Are there any rules to this? Like, could it be inside containers on their person? How far away can it be?" He looks around. "Man, this would be easier if the contrast hadn't just gone out of /everything/..." His eyes dart around, looking here and there even as he questions the Splinter.
Arthur Lowell     "Oh hey, LADIES." Arthur says, confidently striding while the girl gives him his information. He is, actually, paying much more attention to that part. "I getcha. OBJECT MEMORY. I can DIG it." He's got a lot more questions about the premise, actually, but he's gotta focus on what they're doing now. Instead, he'll head towards the congregation to scope out what sort of gathering this is meant to be, launching off the ground and flying to the clockface if that's possible. He's going to close in and listen to the conversation among them, if he can.

    The feeling of nostalgia is palpable to him, and he likes it. It's a wonderful break from the feeling of a dying world, at least, so there's that. He's in no rush to push through this quickly, and is somewhat lazily taking his time while he ascends someone else's.
Mizuki     Whether or not she hears FARUJA, Mizuki would go on with the trial. First, she would regard the indistinct being in the defendant's seat. "You know why you are on trial, do you not?" Its voice is soundless -- rather, it seems to implicitly communicate its meaning to Faruja without a voice. 'No,' It would say, 'and I demand that you release me at once'. Mizuki would wave her hand, and a glistening thread would weave its way through the air. Eventually it would cut a lattice through the invisible 'lips' of the oddly static presence, eliciting a scream that, again, occurs without any sort of physical sensation.

    "Wrong." Mizuki's face shifts into a scowl. "You are here because you have failed in your duty as this girl's guardian. You are here because you have hurt her in the name of making her adhere to some code of conduct that could not be appropriate in the most stringent heaven nor the most fiery hell. Now, I will render you judgment. You will die as I see fit for you to die, and you will be resurrected so that you will do so again. This process will repeat until your wrongs have been cleansed in a conflagration of your own dismal creation. And then I will fling your soul to whatever perverse realm will accept it." Glancing behind herself she would regard the judge and order, "bring the girl that she may have her say. It would be best for her to converse with this wretch before I rend his sapience from him."

    The visual freezes. "You must find the relevant personage to proceed." A single word in difference, but hopefully that is hint enough on its own.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako quietly watches Mizuki and the Artist. She floats upwards to look over Mizuki's shoulder. The other one that Staren isn't looking over. Her amber eyes looking the Mizuki here in the face for a moment as she then follows Mizuki's own gaze. Ayako's head inclines to the side gently as she looks at the contents of the scroll.

    Applause of course when Mizuki's hands gesture and start to form the city. "Hmm...? No color, huh?" Ayako looks in the direction of the Guide when the scene suddenly pauses and she speaks. "Oh. Certainly!"

    Ayako doesn't miss a beat. "Staren! Help me gather color from the coral. I remember that there's all sorts of colors from the coral forest." She floats back underwater and starts trying pull pieces of coral of different monochrome shades from the paused memory.
Mizuki     The Guide would nod her approval to PRISCILLA. "The halfbreed has the right of it. Intervention would cause a divergence both in Mizuki's mind and muddle the events you are observing. Such actions are not advisable." She would acknowledge Riva's readiness with a nod, though, and Mizuki would begin to speak. "What shall I name you, do you think? Do you have a preference?" She smiles to Palora, though she does not reciprocate the gesture. "Whatever you wish to call me," She would reply. Her voice is tedious, demure; a far cry from what the others have come to expect of her. This would bring a frown to Mizuki's countenance. "Oh, come. You must have some opinion, mustn't you?" At this, though, Palora would simply echo: "Whatever you wish to call me."

    Mizuki would lower her gaze. She would ball her fists into tight coils, regarding the tassels of the carpet adorning the floor before she finally, bitterly says, "It is always the same -- always -precisely- the same. All the life I give in this world lacks any will of its own. So much as I would desire to give you a name, I cannot, because the only one that would fit you is my own. No, and not even that! You are a -doll-! You cannot carry my will, but only my writhe in emptiness for all your days!" She would flatten her palm and slap 'Palora' across the face, tears welling in her eyes.

    "Bring me a soul, oh Creation! Bring me some constitution of dichotomy and chaos that may be fitted to this girl's being, and give me some variation in this life! Please, give me some company lest I fall to madness! Please..." She would look to Palora, mournfully stroking the cheek that she had earlier struck. "Please, bloom... bloom in to something more complex, more lasting..."

    The vision would freeze. As one would expect, the Guide repeats, "You must find the relevant object to proceed."
Staren     Staren blinks at Ayako. "Take /colors/ from the /coral/? Damn, that's some nice outside-the-box thinking! But, this doesn't seem like the sort of puzzle where we need outside the box answers. Ms. Memory here is being very direct. Still, it won't hurt to try." He swims over. "So how exactly do we take the colors, which aren't even visible anymore?" He tries touching the coral, willing the color to come off or something. "Take Color." He mutters to himself.
Kimiko Shinobu     "I would rather see truth," Kimiko says, "than false pleasantry. Let it play." A denial of alteration, then. She continues to watch the scene unfold, stone-faced. She recognizes, now, the nature of this scene of recruitment. Didn't she call these 'seekers'?

    But then it pauses, and Kimiko gives a short, sharp sigh at the announcement. "Deciding our division as well as enforcing involvement in this meaningless way. Aren't you a pushy host? The 'book of heaven' was a trial in its own way, but at least it held meaning in its motivation."

    Kimiko looks for the object in question, the very object that this vision of Mizuki is looking for, and will point it out once she does find the toy. But that won't, however long it takes, have any affect on the attitude of her words with the guide. "If I guessed you were like the guide of that book, I would question your motivations in this, as she was a loathsome and spiteful being." Despite the content of the sentence, it is delivered in a calm, even tone. Everything she says is at the same rate, without pause or emphasis. "I imagine, instead, that this is a reflection of the inflexibility of the past, though I question to what degree it is actually necessary, and to what degree this is unfolding in this manner only because you expect that it should be this way."
Faruja "My, my, my, Mizuki. If /this/ is also a part of ye, then I fear for mine position. Such a shame ye art not pious." There's even more respect inching into the rat's voice as he observes. He'll need to write that one down for his own use.

When the vision freezes, he crosses his arms in contemplation.

"Let us see...the most obvious answer would be the blonde girl. She seems to be the victim. However, I doubt that is the case, as another is required. Were it myself in Mizuki's place, it would be a witness. But /whom/!?"

"Miss Guide. What might ye tell me about the case on trial? Any details that ye think might uncover whom is most relevent here."

The Inquisitor's one-eyed gaze constantly settles on Telephone, the assumed victim in all of this. He hunts through their frozen faces, eyes narrowed in concentration as the gears in his head turn.
Mizuki     The Guide would speak again for Homura. "As I'm sure you realize, that vagueness is intentional. Mizuki appreciates the mystique that comes of such oblique titles." She would pause for so long that she might assume that's all the Guide was willing to offer, but eventually she would add, "You already know my role: to share information. I suppose it could also be said, though, that I play the role of a teacher. Once many cycles ago, an iteration of Mizuki created me so that future incarnations of her could more quickly learn about their collective past. I played that part here as well. Beyond this, I am also meant as a sort of time capsule; I retain some of the essence of the first maiden who called herself Mizuki, and should the day come when this cycle is broken, I am meant to allow that persona freedom." Well, that's a bit more than she usually gets, at least.

    Though, back to the memory. Mizuki would smile to the child in her arms, perhaps giving her a gentle peck on her forehead. "How have you been over these past several days? You have been holed up here so long. Won't you come out with me so that we may explore the depths of imagination further? Please?" Her expression would dip faintly. "Your silence does concern me so, Setsuna. Were it that you would but tell me what preoccupies you, I could --"

    "I want to leave." Her voice is high-pitched, but somehow stern. "I don't like it here anymore. You scare me. And I want. To. Leave." She would look to Mizuki with something approaching disdain. "... that's exactly what I told you before, but you didn't listen. Are you ready to listen to me now?" Mizuki would sit in a stunned silence for a moment before gingerly, slowly sliding off the side of the bed. "... one moment. Allow me to fetch your --. Allow me to fetch something to calm you." In a daze she would stumble out of the room, walking just past Homura before the vision freezes.

    "You must find the relevant object to proceed," Again.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako smiles brightly as she pulls colors out of the coral pieces. "Yoink!" Balls of monochrome-ish color come from the coral which Ayako cheerfully grabs and then floats up to the Artist. "Nice to see you again, Alicia!" She then forms the balls of color into different watercolor paints in small jars. If there's one thing she knows what should look like what, it would be watercolors!

    Ayako places the colors she grabbed into the Artist's smock. "Staren! Come on up once you've got yours!" She smiles softly to the Artist. "Like Riva told me before... you only really get one chance with watercolors so... do your best, okay?"
Mizuki     ARTHUR can easily hear the women speak, especially since he can essentially linger as close to them as he pleases without any risk whatsoever of being noticed. The first to speak would be a rather pale-looking girl with a baleful look in her eyes. "... so that's it, then. You're just going to leave us all here to tend your garden while you're away." She would shrug. "Yeah, that's fine. It's not like we care if you leave at all or anything. It's not like we're you're -friends-; just colleagues, right? Just a bunch of misguided kids trying to make the world a better place, right?" She would scowl, eventually twisting around in place to regard nothing in particular in the distance. Another girl, this one wearing glasses, would set her hand on her shoulder in attempt to console her.

    "It's only for a while, Lillian. I'll return. I'll not be the same when I do, but I will have improved." She, too, would approach the girl, hugging her in a way that could almost be called maternal. It bears mention that looks eerily like the Guide, but she lacks her spectacles. "I promise: this is for the best. In doing this, I will unlock the secrets of a mind that can truly, peaceably exist in a utopian world. When I share this with all of you via our mental link, its warm, halcyon belief will overspread us all, and we'll find a sort of happiness that we could never have comprehended before. We'll find satisfaction, and we will be able to share this happiness with all those who dwell in Creation."

    A red-haired woman whose shoulders are cloaked in a shawl would approach next. "All due respect, Shiori, I believe we're all happy enough as things currently are. I understand that you have some niggling desire to change and 'improve' at all times, but one of these days I fear it may be your undoing. Please, there is no sense in tarnishing what we have here. Least of all to fulfill some instrument as mad as the one you're proposing." The other girl would look to her seriously for a moment, but all she would say when she responds is, "Chatrinelle, please bring me my quill."

    Pause. "You must find the relevant object to proceed." At least this one seems to be pretty obvious.
Staren     Staren shrugs, and imitates Ayako, forming color balls and putting them in jars. The palette is slightly desaturated and bluish -- they are underwater, after all. He swims back over to Ayako, jars in tow. "Technically, this already happened, so I don't think we have a chance to mess it up." But he's not mischioevous enough to try horrible clashy colors and see what happens.
Homura Akemi     "I see. And what will happen when that first maiden is free? Two Mizukis, or a single one with unified memories?" It's an idle question, to pass time. Homura doesn't recall the name Setsuna-- which is probably going to play against her tremendeously. There's quite a bit of information here as it were. A child held against her will, for starters. She decides to ask the Guide, to see if she'll answer.

    "This Setsuna. Why is she being kept like this?"

    While awaiting answers to both questions, she searches. First the room; but for what? It could be two things. A typical item to calm a child? A stuffed animal, maybe. Or, knowing Mizuki's style, it's some sort of heirloom. A watch?

    But it could be a lot of other things. It could be a meal, or medication. It's a good thing Homura is pretty good at turning a room inside out searching for things.

    If the room itself seems to contain nothing of note, she'll look at where Mizuki was headed. How many rooms does this phantom cover? The whole palace? That's going to be a -huge- pain if it's true.
Riva Banari Riva nods. All right, they can't try to intervene with the memory. Not that they really have the power to, anyway. The Guide seems to have dodged her question (and her attempts to make the Guide look at her) anyway.

Instead she watches from behind the couch, trying to make at least a pretense of hiding out of sight.

The proceedings are fairly shocking. Riva blinks, and peeks up around the edge of the couch when she hears Mizuki begin lamenting her inability to create an independent will.

The ensuing slap causes her to gasp in surprise, and inhale, but she doesn't call out or try to interfere.

When things freeze back up, Riva pops up and looks between the being who would presumably be Palora, and her creator. "She wants something to bloom, huh? Some kind of difference, getting some /free will/ in here, huh?"

She puts her arms akimbo, huffing a little. "Okay, okay, calm down, Riva, let's focus. In fact, let's focus on Priscilla." Whut, is she talking to herself?

"Lady Priscilla, do you have any good ideas for this one? This situation feels 'you' for some reason."
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako frowns softly, "Staren~. Just because something has already happened is no reason to not try your best." She gently taps Staren's forehead with her pointer finger.
Mizuki     The Guide would finally, finally bring her gaze to meet Kimiko's. She might not have noticed it before, but she lacks any of the defining features of the eye in hers -- rather, the teardrop shapes that exist where her instruments of vision should are filled in with a pure white, absent hue. This might capture her in the moment it takes the Guide to conjure a reply.

    "There is no practicality in this, no." She would cede as much immediately. "The pattern you follow is a rote mechanism that was once intended to best teach this world's lady. The idea was that the presence of fear -- a fear that she would never emerge should she not find an object, or otherwise properly learn the information she was witnessing -- would be conducive to her growth. This has long since been proven a rather inane practice, but this tome was abandoned many years ago and Mizuki never sought to amend its tendencies. Still, while there are likely other paths you can take in this endeavor, I am obligated to inform you only of the course you are intended to take through this history. Any other paths you must conjure yourself."

    Finally, she would conclude, "I am sorry if this pattern inconveniences you."
Mizuki     "This is the trial of the man who was once 'Telephone's' legal guardian. As such, the most relevant figures would be members of Telephone's family. It bears mention also that Mizuki observed this family for six months before Telephone was eventually killed so that she could best understand her, and later to know how she could best torment those who had wronged the girl. Other relevant participants in this trial include the closest friend of Telephone; though she was not so attached to the girl at first, she watched the family alongside Mizuki long enough to formulate her own vehement opinions of how they should be judged. She may be called upon as a witness later on."

    No specific names, then? Doesn't seem like it.
Priscilla     Priscilla looks curiously to Riva. "Knowing the Palora that existeth now, this doth seemeth a far stretch. If she is to represent Lady Mizuki's id, then such a transformation requires some manner of chaos as she says. Something from which divergence emerges when stimulated with the same medium." Bloom? That does seem like a rather heavy hint. Putting the two things together, Priscilla looks up to the stained glass window. The portraiture of Mizuki seems to make it a far stretch, as she wants anything /but/ another reflection of herself. However, the way the author in the glass holds her conspicuous flower seems like a good fit in more ways than one. The refraction of the glass turns the same white light into different shades which, most importantly, diverge from the colours that pass through the representation of Mizuki. It also most certainly fits the definition of blooming alright. She has a plan for an object of imagination if this doesn't cut it, but Priscilla decides to stay the written course for the moment, moving over to the window and reaching up to run her fingers over the glass rose, staining her face with the play of colours.
Arthur Lowell     Arthur considers what he just heard. "Huh. PEACEFUL UTOPIAN EXISTENCE." He crosses his legs in mid-air and takes a reclining, pensive posture. "Got a LOT of LACE and FRILLS up in here. CLASSY." He casually floats around the frozen world, considering the situation. "Well, first thing to LOOK FOR is gonna be the QUILL, obviously." He drifts between the girls, seeking it out.

    But, of course, he makes conversation as he does so... "I've got a few IDEAS about what THIS is." He mutters as he goes. "This is around the START, right? The BEGINNING of this? That one, SHIORI. Looks kinda like YOU. And YOU'RE a splinter off MIZUKI. Am I RIGHT, guessin' that's HER? In some PAST LIFE?" He hunts around a little more. "I know what's GOIN' ON here. But it's GOTTA be somethin' she tried doin' with GOOD INTENTIONS. UTOPIAN INTROSPECTION EXPERIMENTS, that's the kinda shit I'd expect outta her." He glances over to the guide, if she's physically manifesting here. "Or, I GUESS, outta YOU. Am I gettin' ON THE BULLSEYE here? Or am I COLDER instead of WARMER?"
Mizuki     KIMIKO would, incidentally, eventually find a stuffed animal in the form of a sheep some distance from the tree. Presumably she should give it to Mizuki or the ailing girl to make things progress.
Kimiko Shinobu     Kimiko walks across to pick up a stuffed animal. There is not, she thinks, any real possibility that a stuffed animal being in this place is unrelated to the nearby presence of a girl missing a stuffed animal. It's not as if there's anyone else around. Back she goes, to place it into this Mizuki's hands--or the girl's hands, or before them, or otherwise, in whatever fashion, interact as this vision requires her to.

    While she does so, she speaks, "I am not here to play games, and I am not here to be taught lessons." As looked upon, she looks back, locking gazes. "'Obligated to only...' is to say you are not required to do otherwise. 'Tendencies' are only that. Neither tendencies nor obligations have meaning without the ability to do otherwise. They imply a will. I can then guess that you are able to help, but have chosen not to."

    "If so, very well. Let's get on with it."
Mizuki     AYAKO and STAREN would return to the Artist with a jar of paints. This would seem to work perfectly as the discoloration pervading the area would be banished as soon as they do so. The artist would dip her brush into the font of colors and draw a rainbow across the outlines left by Mizuki. This would fill in not only color, but detail; one would now be able to resolve the cerulean roof tiles atop the buildings, and notice how the Crystalline Palace mystically refracts the light of the sun. It seems these paints no only add color, but they also apply effects that make things in this world appear as though they share the same physical properties as those objects found in other worlds.

    Once a good portion of the painting is done, though, the Artist would begin to smirk confidently. "How would you judge my work thus far, ma'am? Is all of this to your liking?" Mizuki would begin to nod slowly, her own smile growing as the seconds tick by. "... absolutely. It's marvelous. Far better than that eyesore of a forest that I had here before, wouldn't you agree?" The Artist would nod. "Oh, yes. In fact," She would form a checkmark under her chin, smiling, "I daresay I like it enough to live here. Would you mind terribly if I made a home for myself here? I believe it might do me some good to have some fresh air -- to venture out from the tower. What say you?" She would regard Mizuki.

    And again, she's smiling. Now, though, her eyes have closed in some form of reverence. "... yes. Yes, I believe that could be arranged." She would turn to face her more fully, eyes reopening. "I suppose this is fate -- every one of my most successful children ventures beyond the confines of my home eventually. It makes me happy, and yet... ah, there's a certain melancholy to it. Nevertheless! If you truly intend to leave, then I would give you this." She holds out a hand. Flecks of light converge there as if with the intention to create something new, and...

    They freeze in place. The Guide repeats her catchphrase, and again the pair are left to their devices.
Faruja FAruja frowns. "So then, we have the guardian himself, Mizuki, Telephone, possibly Mizuki's maidens though I doubt such. And of course this friend."

"Mizuki is conducting the trial. The Judge is currently irrelevent. I highly doubt 'tis the guardian. This leaves Telephone or this friend."

He slowly smiles, and raises his arms.

"Time to trust in the Lord. Might I guess the friend, mmm, 'Sheep'." Calls out the INquisitor. He tries to sound confident, but doesn't seem to be completely sure of himself. Tail flicking, he smiles.
Staren     "Colors, textures, /and/ shaders. Cool paints." Staren observes, as he watches the world fill in. When they stop to talk, he wonders something, opening his mouth to speak, "If--" then stopping to listen.

    "...If Mizuki can make entire realms, why imagine an artist to do it for her? Do her creations have--" he gasps. "Oh. She was from Outside."

    Staren looks at Mizuki's flecks of light. "They needed some kind of item just to settle away from the /tower/? That... I didn't know that! How are we supposed to know what it is? Is it a key? Is it a..." He tries to think back to meeting the artist. "Something she had on her when we met her, maybe? But I don't keep recordings from that long ago in my head..." he tries to contact the outside world if he can, to call home by radio and have images from when they met the artist sent to him.
Mizuki     The Guide would respond again to HOMURA. "Because Mizuki is struggling to accept that she truly wishes to leave. Setsuna had lingered here for a long time before this memory transpired and grew closer to Mizuki than anyone else ever has. Losing her meant losing a love, in a way; a family member. Ergo, she is being kept here because Mizuki believes she will change her mind." After she has said this she would follow Homura into the next chamber of the palace. Oddly enough, though, she walks out on to a balcony rather than into a long and winding hall. This is odd, as she saw no way down in the previous chamber and there likely wasn't any room for a staircase in the room Mizuki and 'Setsuna' are currently gathered there.

    All the same, though, Homura finds a rather interesting menagerie of goods collected on that balcony. There is a wide assortment of stuffed animals here, one such item set upon a stack of pillows that bring its 'eyes' to level with a telescope. There is a bar here that holds a blanket that has been modified to work as a flagpole, and gathered in another corner are trinkets that would suit a baby best -- pacifiers, milk bottles, that sort of thing. All in all, this makes for a very, very bizarre scene, but at least she has a wide assortment of 'comforting' objects to choose from.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako cheerfully watches as the scene resumes when she and Staren finish giving the paints to the Artist. She claps her hands together cheerfully as the color, details, and reality fill in. "Oh, well done!" She giggles softly and then quietly listens to them both.

    "Hmm... so this... would be how the Artist decided to live out here... huh." Ayako inclines her head to the side gently. "Aahh, Mizuki, what are you going to give, I wonder?" And then the scene pauses. "Ah. Hmm... I wonder... now what would Mizuki give...?" She lies her back down on her broomstick and thinks... as Staren tries to remember in his own way.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako closes her eyes for a moment... and then glances around slowly. "Hmm.. if anything... maybe a new paintbrush... what do you think, Staren?" Her amber gaze turns back to Staren as she lounges back on her broom.
Homura Akemi     "So she was a sort of daughter, or younger sister?" Homura asks the Guide, to try to get a clearer idea. She really hadn't heard the name until now; perhaps it's simple misfortune she missed the time when Mizuki spoke of her, or maybe Mizuki simply never did. These sorts of events aren't ones she would openly bring up, herself, if they had happened to her. "More importantly... how did she lose her?"

    As they come upon the balcony, the Puella Magi inspects the piles of goods; a teddiy bear, trinkets, a telescope. Her hands reach for the teddy bear, since it seems the most obvious choice. She'll turn to look at the Guide. "This one?" Though, why the bear was set up on those pillows is beyond her. Maybe Setsuna was playing.
Mizuki     PRISCILLA clearly knows Mizuki well, as the instant she completes this action, the world about her and RIVA would startle back into motion. Light would beam through the stained glass and cut straight through the form of the rose, coating Palora in a brilliant crimson light. After a short pause she would raise her gaze and grab Mizuki's wrist, her eyes filled with a something like malice. Beside her now is another girl who would seem equally familiar: Callia. The latter stands kindly and serenely, hands folded at her waist, carefully watching Palora and Mizuki for the time being. The lady herself would eventually raise her gaze to see Palora, and just in time to hear her snarl,

    "Don't you -ever- hit me again."

    Mizuki pauses, as if in shock. She glances fervently between both girls. It's some time before she recovers to a point where she is able to wrestle her wrist free of Palora's grab, but when at last she does her eyes would begin to well with tears anew. She... doesn't look angry in the least; rather, she looks the sort of happy that comes at the relief of a long, dismal period of torment that one never expects to see the end of. Meekly, quietly, she would say, "... you contradicted me." Palora, herself looking startled now, bat her lashes several times before responding in her own, subdued tone, "Hey, yeah. Yeah, I guess I did." Almost immediately after she would notice Callia waving out of the corner of her eye. She would unceremoniously quip, "Okay, and who in the hell are you supposed to be?"

    Before she gets any form of answer, Mizuki would throw her arms around Palora. "Finally! After all this time, a success! Do you know what this means? Fenestra and I aren't alone anymore! Can you -comprehend- that? Can you feel the magnitude of that of your own devices?" Palora would quirk an eyebrow at her and, in her usual crass way, say, "Uh, no? I guess not. I don't know why you would like having someone around if they were just going to bitch at you. I mean, I think having people do everything you want them to do all the time sounds pretty cool, honestly. I think you're a wackjob for wanting other people around in the first place." Mizuki would just continue to look on in awe, eventually muttering a "Wonderful~!" As she clasps her hands.

    "Lady," Palora would fold her arms, "you really need to cool it with the admiration crap. It's kinda creepy." In the meanwhile, Callia would meander off somewhere. To fetch them something, maybe, as the memory comes to a halt again.

    This one should probably be easier, especially since there's really so much to find in a room so bare.
Mizuki     "My condition is a difficult one to explain, though I do not believe myself to possess a will in earnest. I am able to provide hints and riddles that will advance your position, but I am not allowed to fully comprehend the vast majority of the actions that may be taken in this realm, nor am I physically capable of sharing their possibility with you. As such, you might attempt a variety actions that meander beyond the expectations of this realm, but I can play no part in your doing so. Even assuming I have a will, I have no means through which to make such suggestions to you as I've no such suggestion to make. I will not, however, stop you regardless of what you attempt to do here." It's still unclear whether she's lying, really has no will, or has been trained to think she does not, but whatever the case she would fall silent again as the world begins to move again.

    Mizuki would gently tuck the stuffed animal into the girl's arms. She continues to shiver, but would at least respond through a ginger hug which she gives the artificial creature. She would remain in place afterwards, Mizuki continually stroking her hair, until her eyes finally slip closed. After this point, the visual in front of Kimiko would swirl, changing quite completely in a short amount of time. She's inside a small bedroom in an abode carved entirely of aged wood. A daisy rests in a plain vase on the window sill, and light from that aperture would filter on to the bed itself, highlighting the features of the girl from before.

    Notably, her features are no longer pale, and her dress no longer ragged. She looks healthy again, and she proves this as her eyes dart open and she fervently glances around the room with a sort of energy and startling that only a being fully in command of its faculties could manage. She would sit like this for some time, nervously gripping the blankets covering her before she eventually sits up. After she does, though, she would pat down her pockets as if in search of something. She would find a pencil in the left pocket, but nothing in the right. This would elicit a profound widening of her eyes as she darts up from the mattress, resuming her hurried, worried looks about the room.

    Then the image would pause, and the Guide would repeat her command. It's as repetitive and robotic as all those present would have grown accustomed to by now.
Kimiko Shinobu     Kimiko doesn't have anything more to say to the guide after that, which is just as well as the scene again begins to move. While darting back to the girl every few seconds, she spends more of her time again looking about the room. As small as it is, it doesn't take her long to complete a circuit and move to look out the window. This continues even after the scene pauses again. It's after she's sure that she has as complete an understanding of the area as she can that she moves to the assigned homework.

    Writing instruments being useless without something to write on, she looks for paper. A book? But given that the girl was out on her own, far from any library or other cause--perhaps a diary. She can't imagine what would be in such a journal. She /can/ imagine that Mizuki would take it to have a read while the girl slept.

    Assuming she does find such a thing, she'll place it in the girl's sight.
Mizuki     It might take a bit of searching, but Kimiko would eventually find a diary underneath the bed on the side tucked against the wall. It's unlikely that Mizuki took it from her -- rather, it probably fell out of her pocket while she was sleeping. It's even more unfathomable that Kimiko would ever peek, but she may still notice the cover. It's almost too faded to read, but she may still be able to make out the name: Abigail Aleria. There seems to be a lock on its front just as there was on the cover of the Book of the Past itself. All the details aside, though, the memory would begin to move again just as soon as she places the journal within her sight.

    The girl -- or rather, Abigail -- would only have to continue her search for another moment or so before she would find it. She would grab it and hug it to her chest protectively, heaving a sigh of relief. Then she would take her pen, twirl it around to the side opposite the writing end, and uncap it to reveal a key. She uses said key to open its cover and to quickly leaf through to make sure everything is in place. Once she's satisfied she would shut it, lock it back, and sit back down on the bed.

    It's not long, though, before she becomes restless again. She would look to the door and study it a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to leave. Only when she seems ready to do so would a knock emanate from the door. She would gently gasp, and a familiar voice from beyond would call:

    "Are you awake? If so, may I come in?" It's Mizuki's. As muffled as it may be, it's still unmistakable. Abigail would hesitate a moment but eventually mumble an 'Uh-huh'. When that doesn't elicit any sort of response she would try again a bit more loudly: "Y-Yeah. You can." On cue, the door would creak open. Mizuki's form would peek in to her field of view, a smile just as serene as the one she had been wearing when they had been beneath the tree decorating her face and a tray of fine foods in her arms. Abigail's jaw would drop at the sight of the glorious buffet, but she would compose herself just in time to ask just one further question. "... wait. Are you the girl from my dreams? You're -real-??" At this, Mizuki would simply press a finger to her lips.

    "Shhhh. We'll discuss all of this in due time. For now, though, eat. Eat and relax." She would retract the finger shortly after. "Now, if you'll excuse me a moment, there's something I must retrieve." She... might rightly expect the vision to end there, but it doesn't. Rather, Mizuki would continue on down the steps, leaving the girl to eat her fill in her absence. Should Kimiko follow, she would find her way to an equally quaint room adorned with a massive number of odd contrasts. There's a modern, flat-screen television, and yet all the furniture appears as though it pre-dates the Victorian era. The oddest collection of all would be a grouping of children's play blocks in a corner, which Mizuki would kneel before.

    She would sift through these trinkets a moment or two before muttering to herself 'No, not here... perhaps in my room...'. Then the vision would come to a rather unceremonious halt, the Guide reappearing just in time to repeat her usual phrase. Kimiko would recall three other doors in this building: the one to the outside, one to another room upsatirs, and one beneath the stairwell that presumably leads to a basement of some kind. It's unlikely that any others exist here given its small size.
Kimiko Shinobu     Kimiko does follow, though she first glances back toward Abigail, while standing in the doorway. Watching someone eat does not seem supremely interesting, so she continues on. Down the stairs, and to a group of toys. Toys? Where has that stuffed animal gone?

    Rather than immediately look for it--assuming no such item is immediately obvious within this room with the television, as she expects it is not--Kimiko walks off toward the basement. If the vision includes more areas, then she may as well include these in her search for whatever she's truly here to see.
Mizuki     The basement door opens easily to her, but what it reveals is a far cry from anything approaching a normal bedroom. There's a staircase leading down, but it's composed of translucent, glasslike steps rather than normal wooden ones, and the walls are composed of stars and darkness. The stairs wind down further as though the entire area beyond the doorway were some form of condensed Universe, eventually leading to a locale where a regal bed, itself topped with a crimson-on-black awning, would rest. It's surrounded by a small, whimsical lamp upon a night table, and all of these articles would float at the same level in space as though there were some unseen floor there.

    It's hard to make anything out from here, but perhaps if she were to go further in...
Kimiko Shinobu     Kimiko pauses at the sight. Well. She'd expected the house's other bedroom to be be above, not in the basement. It's a bit out of keeping with most modes of architecture, but... the same could be said for walls made of darkness and stairs of glass. She almost turns back, to first look into the rest of the house before proceeding into an area that seems set apart from it, but instead continues on.

    It may or may not penetrate this space, but she at least carries a light with her... of sorts. A minor bit of magic: With a hand held up, Kimiko conjures a silver flame. While it normally vanishes in the process of her summoning some tool, here she merely holds onto the soul-flame itself to light her way.
Mizuki     The further on she goes, the less that light seems necessary. Somehow, the room seems to light itself -- or, rather, a shooting star does as it comes streaking across a 'wall', or rather the absence of one. The darkened walls seem to have become a tapestry of the night sky themselves, meaning that the perceived celestial bodies around her function about as well as any lighting device could ever be expected to.

    Eventually, that path would bring her to the bed covered with the regal awning. The covers have no even been made up, which may hint that Mizuki only recently rose from its expanse to go upstairs. Oddly enough, Kimiko would find the sheep here set underneath the table lamp on the side table. This isn't all she finds, though -- on the center of the matress she would see a sort of purple. It swirls with alternating lines of black and white that shrink as they go on, giving it some illusion of depth.

    The Guide would approach from behind. "The book has heard you. No more games. It will bring you to what you seek, if you but trust it to guide you. Otherwise," She would quikly glance to the sheep doll, then back again. "you may continue on the path that was previously set out for you. Each will eventually lead to the same end point, but the conspicuous doorway will expedite things somewhat." By 'conspicuous doorway', she likely means the portal.

    God, this is a weird place sometimes.
Kimiko Shinobu     Kimiko looks from doll, to guide, to portal. So, the Book can make that choice, or else the Guide did. In either case, the meaning is understood. She nods, but does not yet move. A few more moments thought.

    She recalls Mizuki--the present-day Mizuki--before opening this book. And she recalls the books before it. "These memories are not for me to see," she concludes aloud, "and I will leave them to their rightful owners. The expedited path it is."

    The doll is left alone. Instead, she moves to touch that 'conspicuous' doorway.
Mizuki     Once she touches it, her form would dye itself the same sort of monochrome as the portal depicts. The ensuring sensation is strange -- it's something a tingling numbness, though, as she passes inside of the bizarre, pulsing portal, being whisked away Somewhere Else.

    Though that somewhere else isn't completely devoid of the secrets Kimiko might have seen should she have remained. What begins as a sojourn through complete sightlessness would eventually reveal scenes of some import between Abigail and Mizuki. In the first, Mizuki would hand the girl her scythe. In the one after that, she would teach her how to utilize the flexible physics of the world to create a myriad of her own objects and worldspaces. The scenes continue to show such happy things as this until a day comes when Abigail is alone more and more often. Eventually, wanting no more of this, she would travel to Mizuki's tower.

    And when she arrives, she would see Mizuki and Apathy facing one another down. The would clash. A white absence familiar to Kimiko would steadily find its way to the foot of the clock tower and, when it does, all of the fighting would be rendered meaningless. The world would rupture. Fragments of lands would lose their ties to gravity and fly upward. The same happens to the section of land Abigail happens to be standing on, throwing her into the sky.

    The images would stop for such a time that Kimiko may well assume them to be over and done with. Just as she would assume so, though, one more would return. A blurry, almost indiscernible images of Abigail could be seen in the heart of an empty place realm of greyscale. Abigail's form, too, seems to have lost all its color, making her look rather familiar somehow. If it had not been evident already, there would likely be no question in Kimiko's mind any longer as to why that sheep doll had been so prevalent.

    For the rest of the vision, Kimiko might see Apathy extending her hand to help 'Abigail' to her feet. She might see the small room she allows her to live in, and perhaps a night of sobbing once she had finally come to terms with that fate that had swallowed her new home. Thankfully, though, this is not all she would ultimately see. When all these phantom visuals have faded away, Kimiko's feet would softly touch down upon a gently lighted region amid all the black. And there would float a key, the likeness of -- what else? -- a sheep mounted at its tip. The Guide would appear beside her shortly thereafter, too, to give a few final words.

    "It is done, then. You've reached your destination." She would blink, staring on in silence. "I believe you are the first, so you may be made to wait for some time before you may proceed. Whatever your feelings may be of your venture here, be there any at all, I thank you for visiting. Whether or not you contribute what you've seen here to memory, your simple perception immortalizes these events beyond their usual span. In return for this kindness, I bequeath to you this key. Take it, and take the number. May fortune be with you in the following days."

    Whenever she elects to take the key, the world would shift again. The backdrop remains dark, but the Guide would disappear, heralding the return of that circle of doors she had seen at the beginning.

    The lighted rune on Kimiko's door slowly loses its shimmer after she arrives.
Kimiko Shinobu     Kimiko doesn't actually have any idea what the significance of the sheep is, even if she can recognize the features of someone by virtue of having seen very few people whose appearance is entirely monochromatic. She is, naturally, silent throughout this trip, resigned to being made a witness to these memories despite having no inclination toward being such a person. She nods to the Guide, very slightly, in acknowledgement of what's stated. If that is part of the deal, then she accepts it, as she takes the key.

    And then, to wait.
Mizuki     The Guide would nod to Arthur. "Yes. This is the beginning of what you've come to know as the great cyclical tragedy. This is the moment when Shiori, the 'first' iteration of Mizuki, wrote the Prognostics." Wow, pretty forthcoming with all that, isn't she? How unusual for a denizen of this world. She would go on: "And this is an experiment of a kind, yes. Shortly before this event, this Mizuki had drafted a missive entitled 'The Wisdom of Pain', and before that, 'The Mercy of Suffering'. The former focused on the correlations between relative intelligence after experiencing and overcoming trauma and the latter was written as an analysis on the existential crises that physical pain can sometimes keep a being from experiencing. This was intended to test both those hypotheses whilst also attempting to create an 'ideal utopian mindset' by continually resetting the ensuing Mizukis' minds and challenging them with a solution to the Prognostics and erasing them until they were successful."

    As he continues to search for the quill, she would continue. "As I recall, several of these young women were extremely disgruntled by the idea of losing her as a friend. They said it would, quoting the blond-haired woman, Lillian, "impart suffering upon them in equal or greater measures as it would her." To this she simply responded that this was "acceptable, if not preferable given that they had all lived in perfect tranquility for so many years hence." At the end of all that, though, they yielded to Shiori's insistence, and her personality -- the 'alpha mentality' -- was sent to a certain place to be preserved whilst her pseudophysical being fractured itself into two halves." Glancing to Arthur, she would conclude, "I do not believe I need to tell you of all people whom these halves are."

    After that winding explanation, though, Arthur would come across a quill. Oddly enough, it would be floating just slightly off to the right of the group, shimmering with a prismatic incandescence. It seems to -want- to be found, somehow, and as such it would attract Arthur in the only way it could fathom possible: to distinguish itself as a spatial anomaly, which it may yet be able to stimulate in the mentalscape on account of that space's mutable nature. Whatever the case, though, the memory would resume properly as he takes hold of it.

    "B-But Mizuki... I don't... I thought you kept it...!" Chatrinelle's voice is soft, uneven; she sounds chronically nervous somehow, or as though the tremble at her lips had origins in some affliction. Soon enough, though, a shadowy presence would rest its hand on her shoulder. When her features resolve, she might look very familiar: it's the woman from Echo. The one who had appeared at the entrance to the castle alongside that pair of castle guards. Like she was then, she's smiling now, and would continue to do so as she retrieves the very same quill Arthur had found from her pocket. "Is this the one you meant?" Shiori would nod. "Yes. I would appreciate it if you would give it to me so that we can proceed. I'd prefer not to waste another moment in quandary." Lillian would squeeze her eyes shut. "/How/ long have we been along? How long have we been sitting around and doing nothing? Long enough that you shouldn't be overly concerned with the passage of time, I should think. You're just being impatient. You're just eager to hurt yourself, as usual." She would -sneer-. "Masochist."
Mizuki     "Ah-Ah," The smiling woman would 'warp' over to her, her form again appearing somewhat shadowed until she has time to clear anew, "there's no point in being so nasty, Lillian. No point whatsoever. Once she has her mind set on something, she keeps to it. You should know this well -- you have known her longer than any of us, after all." She would do little more than grunt in reply and fold her arms, but she would let her point stand. Satisfied, Lillian would nod her head in some indication of approval before tranitioning again to Alpha Mizuki and offering her the quill. "Your pain, Lady."

    She would take it gently, giving the woman a nod before looking to Lillian. "Lillian." Her tone lies somewhere in the interstice between softness and sternness. "It will not be forever. It will be for a rather long stint, but not forever. I pray in that time you find other pursuits to attach yourself to. There is so very much to do in infinity, after all. So much." Lillian would -moan-. "Creation's mercy, I don't need this lecture again. Just get on with... whatever it is you're going to do. You freaking lunatic." Mizuki would nod. "Then I shall be needing the Clock Tower's winding key. Sutri, if you please?"

    Again, the memory pauses. This time, though, the key doesn't seem to be floating suspended in the air. Might take more looking this time.
Mizuki     "In a sense," The Guide would speak again to Homura, "she was all of that. She was a perpetual optimist in Mizuki's presence and would not deny any role that she assigned her. In fact, were Mizuki to ask her whether she would prefer to be treated a certain way, she would often emphatically request to fulfill that role simply because she had suggested it. To her, that might have meant she wished her to do so, and she was as constantly fixated on granting Mizuki's wishes as she was of granting hers." She would pause before adding, "The only trouble with that came when it was time for those desires to be made manifest. One would always protest, protest, protest; insist that the other's wishes be done when their only desire, in fact, was to bring about those of the other. This could create large amounts of confusion for them both, and this confusion eventually blossomed into pain."

    "Slowly, Mizuki began to recognize that this girl had become as a living doll to her -- her personality was the slightly more 'powerful' one, and so she assumed the role of controller. The moment she realized this, however, she became distraught. She would insist that Setsuna express herself when, in fact, it so happened that she had very little personality of her own to share. Thus, all these requests did was further the discomfort of each of them, eventually scaring the latter so that she would one day wish to leave." She would pause for a moment here.

    "This was all prevalent because, while Mizuki has had many 'friends' in the Seekers that have come to stay within the boundaries of her domain, she had never once met another creature like herself. This 'Setsuna' was a sort of celestial wanderer who just happened upon her world by chance so phenomenal that it has only happened once in all the cycles of her existence. She, like Mizuki, was a timeless being for whom memory had become fuzzy and emotion had become distant. They found such commonality in this that they tethered themselves to one another out of a desperate yen to have their mentality regain some semblance of vivid humanity. At least insofar as they tormented eachother, they succeeded, but in the end this meant Setsuna's leaving. This even caused a massive upheaval of the world's structures and a change of Mizuki's appearance that left things as you presently see them."

    It would seem, though, that she was right in taking the teddy bear; as soon as she does, color returns to the world, and the clouds on the horizon resume their movement. She's probably going to have to go back inside to see a continuation of this whole thing, though.
Arthur Lowell     Arthur hmmms. "Relevant object to proceed again, I'm guessin'. Key, key, key..." He's starting to understand more of this situation. "Some kind of brute-force mental challenge. Mmmm. I guess it's not as easy as just asking about the key, huh?" His voice has reverted back from the COOLKID ENTHUSIASM to the more wise, intellectual posture. "Would be way too lucky. So lemme guess. You're the alpha mentality? The bit of her personality partitioned off to manage this sort of stuff?"

    He frowns, regardless of any answer. Alright, Sutri, that'd be the one in the Shawl, since he can't recognize the others. Though the lady from that Echo place is given a wary, cautious squinting look, Arthur goes to Sutri now. Alright, no floating key. Maybe she's got it on her person somewhere? A quick examination of her, and then he thinks he'll check the obvious location: The clocktower itself. He'll scan it for spatial anomalies, checking where on its vast shape one might find a key that's trying to call out for a Mage of Space.
Homura Akemi     "So then there was no way that either Mizuki or Setsuna could have been happy together, because their happiness was mutually exclusive. One needed the other to be happy to be happy, but circumstances didn't allow making one happy without the other bearing a cost."

    Homura frowns. That sure is familiar, yes.

    Teddy bear in hand, the Puella Magi would return inside to behold the continuation of the memory, holding onto the bear unless it was needed to give it to Setsuna.

    "But. Why would Setsuna want to leave, then, if they were so close and similar? Was there something she had to do that Mizuki knew of and would not allow her to?" The narrative implies whatever that is must have been a very big deal, but maybe the Guide will be willing to say, if the story doesn't tell.
Mizuki     To Arthur, the Guide would shake her head. "I am not. I am the avatar of her collective memory, and I was created for the sole purpose of organizing this information to ensure its safe return to her when the day came for the cycles to end. There is a very precise and incremental system which the first incarnation intended, and I am to execute this system to be sure that the current personality is not eroded as a result of the memories she recovers." After another moment of pause, she would add, "I was made in her image to symbolize the way in which I keep the first alive. It is because of me that she might be allowed to live again, and so I am both her spiritual and physical successor."

    As for the spatial scan, he would find that the entire interior of the Clock Tower seems to be one, massive spatial anomaly. He might recall, on that note, the elevator passage in the modern day tower -- it seems to be larger on the inside than it is on the outside, and beyond even that it seems to contain a far larger world space within itself than standard physics would allow for. As such, it doesn't seem possible to pinpoint the -location- of the key (if indeed it is inside at all), but he would nevertheless notice a focal point in that pervasive feeling of strangeness. Its location is constantly shifting, but it never move outside of the Clock Tower, so trying to corner that odd signal might be his best bet for the time being.

    Should he venture inside the Clock Tower's walls after that, he would find a very different landscape from the one he's accustomed to. It's much more like a 'real' Clock Tower in this iteration, its walls lacking much of their extravagance in favor of something both more mystical and congruous with the conceptual timepiece. He would therefore walk into a dingy room lit by dim lanterns on stone posts that hold up each subsequent floor. Should he decide to ascend, he might find begin to see and hear shifting machines and clockwork after he surpasses the fourth floor or so. Along the way he would find many doors, and might even notice area where the gears themselves have become stopped -- jammed by something he would not be able to make out unless her were to look at them more closely.

    What he decides to examine, if anything, is up to him. It's still painfully unclear where the key might be, and it's just as likely it would be at the peak of the temporal monolith as it is for it to be found stuck between a gear or beyond a door.
Mizuki     Very matter-of-factly, the Guide would reiterate something Homura already knows: "It is likely that these memories will bear some familiarity with the one who views them," Followed by something she might not have known: "as these memories have something of a will of their own. They wish to be seen just as the first wishes to return to life. The memories are satisfied after they have been witnessed once, however; they seek only to be substantiated by the mutual remembrance of another sentient being. Once they have attained this, they become content." So, memories and thoughts have their own feelings in this world. That might have seemed obvious, but even so, it might come off as a bit strange.

    That more austere explanation aside, though, she would hesitate a moment before answering Homura. Given all the conversational breaks and pauses, one really has to wonder if she was intentionally created with 'suspense' in mind. Regardless, "In a manner of speaking, though the insinuation of an imperative -- a must -- is not entirely correct. Rather, this is where Mizuki's and Setsuna's philosophies of complete abandon subvert themselves. The only thing either of them truly felt an obligation to do at this time was to resist and avoid responsibility in all its forms. Naturally, that extended to authority within relationships."

    "Though," She would go on, turning to face Homura more fully, "I would assume you wish to hear something more specific? Well. Setsuna is a creature who wanders. She arrived here through that wandering, and was destined to one day resume that instrument of travel. She has met many such people and formed many strong bonds, but each time that would occur she would eventually disappear. Mizuki was no exception to this rule, but she used every tool at her disposal to prevent this from happening. She built her castles and toys and even people to attempt to keep her and attempt to make her happy, but ultimately, nothing could. Setsuna simply became increasingly distraught over time, as would a bird in its cage. The rest of this tale you will see yourself momentarily."

    As the pair would arrive at the door to the chamber, they would see that things have quieted down substantially. Each girl sits on that bed, Mizuki with her hands folded uncomfortably in her lap and Setsuna with a comforter held carefully over her mouth. Neither would breathe a word for a time -- only fidget uncomfortably and, more rarely, glance the other's way. Eventually it would happen that both would look to one another at once, and their eyes would lock. They would stare with some measure of awe before, ultimately, Setsuna would close her eyes.

    "... Mimi." Setsuna is the first to speak. "I'm sorry, Mimi." Mizuki would shake her head. "You've done nothing that requires apology. -I- am the one who should be apologizing -- I've neglected your wishes again. I have presumed to know better than you your own mind, and in so doing I've --" Setsuna would put a finger to her lips. When Mizuki looks again, she would shake her head. "No, it's okay. I know you were only trying to make me happy. It's alright." She would smile, slowly unveiling her irises again. They're glistening. "And you did make me happy. Happier than most people that I meet." Past tense. Mizuki's face has already begun to pale. "I want you to remember that."
Mizuki     Mizuki's head would begin to shake slowly back and forth. "No." Her voice is the most vague of whispers. "... no. There is no purpose in this. If each of us are happy... then what meaning is there in this? Why? Why must you go? I can't comprehend you!" Sure, she had left other people in a similar fashion countless times before, but in the pressure of this moment she finally realizes that, looking from the opposite side, she can find no logic in the decision. Certainly, though, neither girl has ever been of very logical mind. As Mizuki begins to wrap her arms around her, though, she withholds any further reply. Mizuki's eyes would moisten, and she would hold her.

    Gingerly, the girl would take Mizuki's hand. "... I can't. Every so often, I just have to go. I can never stay anywhere very long." Mizuki would back away from her, still dabbing an eye. "Well, can you not make the attempt? You make it all sound so final. So... inevitable. Are you being fair to the potential of infinity?" Sestuna would nod. "Sometimes I don't like it, but it just... happens. And I know it's going to happen. I would have liked it better if you could have stopped liking me before then, but... I guess that isn't gonna work." Mizuki would nod her affirmation. "Of course it won't. It couldn't, it can't, it --" Again, she breaks. To her horror, she notices a translucence that has overtaken Setsuna's arm. Her head slowly, absently begins to shake 'no'. "Goodbye, Mimi," Setsuna would softly intone.

    A flash of television static might usurp Homura's vision a moment, and an accompanying, grating noise might take her hearing. At the culmination of that, though, she hears something much more familiar:

    "You must find the relevant object to proceed."

    The room itself has become somewhat broken and distorted. Mizuki and Setsuna are where she had left them, but the discoloration is profound; more than just black-and-white, the colors have become so odd as to fool the senses into seeing them warble and shift in place. As Homura would remain there, the walls of the castle would melt, becoming liquid. It's likely whatever thing she needs to 'find' is out in the void those walls are peeling back to reveal.
Arthur Lowell     "Hmmm." Arthur says, again. "If you remember all this, I gotta ask. What question is she lookin' for the answer for? I know she's looking to make a utopian mindset, or something like that. But if she's got perfect psychic links, she's got perfect post-scarcity... I gotta wonder what she's looking for. What's the challenge here? What's she failing to get right that kills off the world?"

    Alright, gotta find that signal. What is that? What is that thing running around inside... Nathan descends again. "For a stopped clock, this shit sure does move fast." He declares. His KEEN MAGELY INSIGHT attempts to identify a pattern to the signal's movements and slowly enter the clocktower starting at its base, where he would traditionally enter. He can dig the clockpunk style in here, he thinks, most definitely, grinning as he ascends. He's going to check both locations, for obvious reasons. First he's going to locate the jam. Using his keen magely intellect, he ought to be able to trace a lack of movement to its source, right? That, and hours of videogames.

    He'll head further up the clocktower's structure if he can't find what he's after.
Mizuki     It's a good thing that Arthur decides to investigate the jams because, true to video game style, they seem to control the locking mechanisms of the doors -- that's to say, until they're turning properly, the doors would not be able to open. Further, removing one obstruction - carved bronze discs is all he could really describe them as, frankly - opens no doors, and only seems to be a temporary solution since a new disc inevitably finds its way into that space moments after. He might try removing two discs at once to see if that will have any more lasting an impact.

    The question remains as to why these gears are able to move at all in a world where time has paused, though. Is the Clock Tower exempt from those changes, somehow? If so, it's not at all exempt from the changes in the color palette.
Homura Akemi     The explanation makes sense. For but for a variety of reasons, Homura's not too inclined to answer. The Guide-- willing as she is to speak-- is still kind of an unknown. You don't go telling someone you just kind of met why something makes you fundamentally uncomfortable based on significant past events in your life. So instead she'll merely nod at the explanation, and listen, carefully, to the scene that plays out between Mizuki and Setsuna.

    It does shed light; Setsuna's position must be a difficult one. Being unable to settle somewhere and enjoy company because it's not in your nature to be able to do so, even if you wish you could. And attaching yourself to people, no less, who themselves would rather you stay. Recipe for disaster, and one nobody can avert.

    As the colors fade and the world loses stability, Homura attempts staying calm and balanced, looking around. Seems she has to wait for the transition to finish, so she'll use the time to question the Guide.

    "How long did Setsuna stay?"
Arthur Lowell     Arthur examines the disks. He takes one, aand then observes the next. Of course, he applies more of his Videogame Logic. Nobody just leaves big carved bronze disks around. These fell out of something else. maybe part of the clocktower's unusual temporal shenanigans means that he can "repair" part of it in the history. Replace the disks where there's a missing disk, and perhaps the memories won't revert? He drifts around the areas accessible winin the tower, search for -- and replacing -- the disk. If there's nothing, he'll just take the second, holding two now, to see if he can get a more solid opening.

    Mostly because the doors re-locking behind him sure does sound unpleasant and not great.
Mizuki     "It is difficult to parse time periods in this world as nothing shows tangible signs of wear and no one ages. The concept of time's passage does not demonstrate itself in any substantial form, and the turning of days is not even what you might refer to as normal. All excuse aside, however, I believe you might have called it one and a half years." Not very often that Homura gets to be lectured on the concept of time. It does seem to pass as she receives her answer, though, and after some moments the walls of the castle flee from sight. Now the ground upon which Homura finds herself is more easily comparable to an endless, black sea in which the only real deviation is the arrangement of the bed upon which the girls are seated.

    In time, though, something else would resolve in the distance: a moon. Its light spreads over the perfect black of the area and, in this refraction, seems to make an ocean out of the expanse in earnest; that is, waves of the dark stuff begin to emanate toward Homura, and her steps would eventually be characterized by the telltale squelch that comes when a foot meets with water. After a longer time still, the area would fashion itself into a beach at nighttime. Palms would appear around her as she continues to walk, a pair of these plants bending together to create a circular aperture that surrounds the moon.

    It's fairly clear what the object she should retrieve is, but how exactly does one grasp the moon? Even in this world, 'obtaining' such a large thing seems a horribly silly notion.
Homura Akemi     "I guess I should ask Mizuki how she perceives time in her world, sometime," Homura muses at the explanation, before giving the area a long glance, now that the walls are gone and things have stopped transitioning in the most visually debilitating of ways.

    "So where is she from? Even an eternal wanderer has somewhere they came from. More interestingly... where would she be now, today? I think I should like to meet her, and show her the new Mizuki."

    It's an idle question, as she starts looking around. She would backtrack, as much as the ground allows, to find the telescope. The starry sky and the overly visible moon make her curious-- even if it's not the correct object, maybe she can take a quick look, anyway. How does one catch the moon? Its reflection in the water, she supposes. Then all you need is a bowl, and if you stand in the right place, you could claim the moon is yours. But for now, telescope, if she can find it-- or get to it, although worst-case she can deploy her wings and fly.

    That's another idea. Fly up.
    BUT. Telescope, first.
Mizuki     Searching around, Arthur would eventually happen upon several wall fixtures -- circular rings just wide enough to contain the discs -- upon which to place his impromptu dungeon triggers, but putting the ones he's gathered in his hands there doesn't seem to do anything of consequence. After that, though, something -truly- bizarre happens: a girl emerges from beyond a lattice of interwoven gears, bars, and pendulums. She would rest a hand on a stationary bit of technology and tilt her head slightly, moving to tilt it the other way too before finally acknowledge Arthur's presence with words. "Who're you?" So, someone -can- see him? When did that rule change? Or is it just different within the clock? Meh.

    Regardless, she would notice what Arthur is doing, placing a curious finger to her cheek. "... oh, wait. Are you trying to open the doors or something? Here -- I designed these locks. Let me help." She would flit through the air just as seamlessly and easily as Arthur himself until she finds herself at the other side of the room Arthur has reached most recently, placing a hand on a particular disc lodged in-between a gear. From there, she would call back, "We've both gotta remove two corresponding discs at once. You're just supposed to guess which ones go together, really -- it's pretty arbitrary. But." She would gesture to a jammed gear slightly above him which his sense would confirm as having another disc stuck inside of it. "That one. You pull that one, and I'll pull this one when you do. Kay?"
Mizuki     The Guide would stare at Homura a moment. "She does not always perceive time, though you could ask how she does when she chooses to do so. She's enamored of the concept, but at times when she is not contributing conscious awareness to the maintenance of this world's facsimile of it, it tends to dissipate completely. This is one of the many reasons why foreign presences that linger too long in her world without willfully becoming Seekers tend to 'degrade' -- they can not age here, quite, and instead begin to lose their physical form. Because physical forms often remain linked to souls without express and intentional intervention, and since biological entities have no logical way of existing here or dying here, things become horribly messy. Suffice it to say, the souls likely persist in some other fashion, but whatever impression they leave behind in this world becomes malformed and loses its sentience." That's... probably more than she was looking for there. -Way- more. But, apparently, people who stay here too long undergo extremely bizarre mutations or something.

    Regarding Setsuna, the Guide would just shrug. "I cannot say where she came from. That is something she never shared -- even when Mizuki would ask, she would find her way of changing the subject every time. It is feasible that she arrived from the same world that Mizuki came from originally and 'evolved' as she did as a result of how that universe was originally destroyed to create this place, but this is astronomically unlikely." Wait, so the first Mizuki -obliterated a world- to make hers? Or at least changed it in some extremely consequential, ill-defined, lasting way. Go figure.

    Anyway, the telescope. It's still there, and she can retrieve it without any consequence or challenge whatsoever. Should she stare at the moon through it, though, things would become... rather odd. Stars would swivel throughout the aperture as though she were glancing through a kaleidoscope instead, creating a long trail that leads to the moon. Then those varied motes would begin to circle around that celestial body in a continual, unchanging pattern, as though waiting. Should she lower the telescope afterwards, she would see the moon, now two-dimensional and flat as paper, gingerly falling to the ground as would any feather. It would land on the surface of the ocean afterwards and rock back and forth with the ebb and flow of an imaginary tide.

    Somehow, she can tell that it 'wants' to be taken. Curiouser and curiouser.
Arthur Lowell     Arthur is very surprised. "WAH!" He calls out a bit, as the girl shows up right out of the gears! "Oh. HEY, name's ARTHUR LOWELL. Nice to MEET YA." He glances up. "Oh, huh, two-man SAFETY LOCK. Alright, I can DIG IT." He says, nodding. "Thanks for the HELP, locksmith. I'll go YANK it." He floats on up, quickly and energetically, still confused about the locksmith down there but accepting that this is the way things work. Maybe clock inhabitants are just naturally inclined to notice people doing semi-time-travel.

    Anyway, he heads right up, and goes to the directed jam, intending to pull it when given the signal, and head on through the doors after thanking his helper again.
Homura Akemi     Regardless of her personal standards, 'the moon just turned two-dimensional and fell to the ground' is pretty up there on the weird scale. She would nonetheless reach for it, readjusting her eyes to the darkness after that strange lightshow in the telescope. If anything, it was very pretty and mysterious. She hopes the moon is not too heavy, at least.

    As she does so, she slowly absorbs the information given by the Guide. Mizuki's perception of time must be very strange indeed, but that explanation probably doesn't do it justice. If you ask two people to explain how they see colors, what will they tell you? Time is just as abstract a thing to explain.

    Though the matter of Setsuna keeps her attention.

    "Hm. Did any of her belongings survive? When she left, did she say where she was going next? Call me curious, but now I'm even more interested in finding her again. If she is still alive, I'm sure I have friends who can scour the depths of space to locate her."

    Arthur, namely.
Mizuki     To Arthur's introduction, the girl would raise a flattened palm. "Kowaru, here. Yo." He's probably so used to formality and flowery language here that brevity and casualness may spook him a little, but she doesn't -seem- to be out to get him. The vibe he would get from her is actually pretty 'chill', all told. Though, the discs. As he pulls his, Kowaru would likewise pull hers. Then, for the last time, Arthur is forced to suffer those weird, cycling, clicking sounds as two of the doors on his floor open up, revealing a pair of what would appear to be gargantuan storerooms. There is -all sorts- of garbage in these things -- a carousel, a busted half of a skyscraper, and a windmill to name just a few.

    Mercifully, though, it would seem that the presence of the weirdness focal point is both stronger and more consistent in these rooms. In fact, Arthur might be able to isolate it within the bounds of this specific floor. Still, looking through all this clutter might take some doing. Luckily, though, the 'Locksmith' is still around, so he might be able to ask her for help once she's done staring at him awkwardly. "... nope, you're definitely not a Seeker. So what are you doing here? And how did you get here?" Still staring. She's bad at showing it, it seems like, but she's probably as surprised to see him as he might be to see her. Glancing over his shoulder, she would continue, "Looking for somethin'? You're not gonna find it very quickly. There is a lot of junk around here, but you probably didn't need me to tell you that."

    "But maybe," Still talking, "if you tell me what you're after -- and how you got here, that too -- I can help somehow. I mean, tell me if I'm wrong, but you really have the aura of a guy who's on a mission. And I like to help people on missions."
Mizuki     The moon is, in fact, extremely light; in addition to having the appearance of paper, it seems to have taken on the physical properties of it as well. The texture still feels sufficiently rough and rocky, though. When questioned further about Setsuna, the guide would pause a moment; she seems to have to take her time in remembering the details, here, which is admittedly a bit ironic for a personification of someone's memories, but it occurs nevertheless. Eventually, her response would follow something like so: "... she never said. She might have alluded that she intended to live a new life, but what life that might have been is uncertain. It is entirely possible that she is living somewhere in the Multiverse as a new person with a fresh appearance and suppressed memories. This would make her exceptionally difficult to find, but likely not impossible." So elusive that she doesn't even remember anything that would reveal or confirm her identity? Ouch.

    Though, with regards to belongings. "Yes. It might be a challenge to convince her to allow you entry, but there is a certain room in Mizuki's old house -- the shack you might have seen floating in the space around the world proper -- that she is chronically hesitant to visit. This room was Setsuna's 'nursery'. Anything that might help you in finding her would be located there." After she finishes speaking, the Guide would give her a lingering look that could almost be called bewilderment. Is she a little surprised that Homura's taken an interest here? Maybe.

    Once they've finished their discourse, though, the moon would disintegrate in the puella magi's hands. The world would flash several times, primarily from the direction of the bedroom that once was. It's hard to tell from here, but she might see movement; if so, the memory has likely been set back in motion.
Homura Akemi     "Thank you for the information. I'll try to convince Mizuki to let us help." In a way, this would mean Setsuna is Mizuki's Madoka. Of course she's interested. It's a pretty rough parallel, but it strikes close enough to home she'd like to see what became of her, at least.

    "Does Mizuki remember her? Or are those memories repressed, like the lives of all her past selves? It must be odd, being made uncomfortable by a building you don't even remember."

    Seeing the moon be reduced to nothing and the colors slowly return to the world with a flash of light, Homura hurries back to the room-- hoping that the walls don't pick this moment to reappear and make it harder for her to get back in in time. She would like to see how the story concludes itself, so missing even five seconds of it is too much.
Arthur Lowell     Arthur winces through the clicky noises and then grins widely as he swaggers on through to the storerooms. "Yeah, not a Seeker. Wait, hey! You didn't think I was, right? They're all cute girls, and I /don't/ look like that." Arthur says, getting extremely defensive right away, like a huge spaz. "I'm here to watch, mostly. I mean, that's okay, right? Just need to take a look at some stuff, to help out Miz--" he stops himself. "Shiori, I mean." He heads into the storage area! "I'm checking around for the winding key. Not gonna take it, just need to get a good look at it, if that's OK. I got here, uh..." He puts a hand to his chin as he considers a huge chunk of skyscraper. "Do you want the Cryptic Answer or the Real Answer?" He makes a broad, enthusiastic gesture, immediately giving her the cryptic answer. "How do you know I'M HERE? When the REAL ANSWER is that YOU, and ALL THIS, are actually SOMEWHERE ELSE! If you're actually ANYWHERE REAL AT ALL!" He points dramatically. It's technically right! They're not in reality anymore, they're in a simulation-memory.

    Then he goes back to picking around the massive storage area. "The serious answer is that I'm actually not here, 'cause of time shenanigans that won't actually matter to talk about."
Mizuki     "Mizuki's memory of Setsuna is a bit more nuanced than is normal. Technically speaking, she lived with Mizuki in the same cycle as the one she is currently in, but at that time - as you've gathered, I trust - she took on a different appearance, and shaped her world rather differently. The world was rebuilt and her own personal image modified to put distance between her and her memories of Setsuna, so she is not consciously aware of them, but she does recall that there is, quote, 'a friend that she has been searching for for many years'. If you mention this to her, it will likely put her on guard, but she trusts you enough that it may open up the appropriate conversational pathways rather than closing them. Still, I would recommend you choose your moment wisely."

    Her final advice given, though, the Guide would fall silent and allow Homura her space to witness what comes after. The walls, conveniently, reappear just as Homura has breached their proximity. Then the world comes back together around the bedroom -- the ghostly curtains tease at the edges of the windows in silence, the doors open themselves to herald the girl's approach, and, ultimately, she would find Mizuki on the bed, hands curled around a certain section of the blanket. As she likely expected, Setsuna in gone, and in her place is a single object: a necklace whose pendant is built in the shape of a rabbit's head. Effort makes no effort to take it just now.

    But, she's crying. Few people or things in Creation could make Mizuki care about them quite so much that she would cry to mourn their loss, and on even fewer occasions would she be willing to expose her humanity in such a fashion. In this instance, though, it seems she does not care; she remains there in stark quiet for some time yet, tears gently, soundlessly plinking on to the blanket every now and then.

    There's a distinct chill to the room, now, and Homura would certainly be able to feel it. Mizuki would slowly collapse to her side, shutting her eyes in such a way that may come off as surprisingly peaceful. Then, around her, the world would reshape itself. Grass would sprout among the ivory tiles at the ground, and the walls would again become invisible and erode, giving way to a sprawling field flecked at intervals with snow. In time, Mizuki would find herself laying there among the green rather than in her usual place of comfort, but she would continue to sleep. There is no trace of the castle anymore -- it would seem that Mizuki willed it out of existence unconsciously. Evidently, a tragic happenstance like this could quite literally end the world if the wrong circumstances were fulfilled -- that's the risk one takes in tethering the state of a world to one's emotion as she has.

    Soon, the Guide would appear beside Homura. She would study Mizuki's motionless form for a spell before commenting, quitely, "This is as far as this isolated recollection will take you. When you are prepared, I will present you the key and return you to the Nexus of Doors as my occupation demands."
Homura Akemi     "I'll remember that. I would be rather upset if someone asked me about painful memories at the wrong time, so I would sooner not do that to someone else unless it were absolutely necessary," Homura answers, quietly. And for now, it isn't necessary. She is curious, absolutely, and wants to learn more about this, but not so much as to risk upsetting Mizuki and ruining it all.

    She would watch, as before, the memories as they resume. It's kind of sad, seeing Mizuki like that, but it reminds her she is far more human than she likes to show. Another point they have in common; they hide their true selves behind a mask, although the masks are not quite alike in this case.

    The world changes a final time, and Homura turns back to the Guide, giving a nod. "I'm ready. It doesn't look like there's more to see here. That necklace-- I take it she kept it?"
Mizuki     Kowaru... blinks. She might blush faintly at the 'cute girls' thing, but if she does, it's well concealed. "... uh. Did Mizuki ever tell you how becoming a Seeker -works-, exactly? People -choose- how they look after they become Seekers, so they're -- or, uh, we're -- only 'cute girls' because we picked that for ourselves after coming here. It just so happens that the vast majority of people interested in spending multiple lifetimes in Alice's Wonderland happen to be, big surprise, little girls. Or at least people who idealize that sort of life for themselves, y'know?" Her hands would meander to her pockets as she explains.

    She would quirk her brow as Arthur 'corrects' himself in the utterance of Mizuki's name, though. "S'okay. I already know that she uses Mizuki as her main name where you come from. We can see her -- actually, we can see you too, but that's probably a creepy thing to hear -- pretty much whenever we want to. We just can't -do- anything there unless you're Insidia and get special permissions from the rulebook." She blinks. "Ah... heh. But that probably made no sense at all. Should I explain? Or do you want me to just let you keep doing what you were doing? Chances are you're probably gonna find out more about us later either way, but meh." She would waver a hand.

    After commenting on where he came from, though, Kowaru would actually start smiling. It's surprisingly good-natured for a cryptic stranger, though. "Whether you're 'really here or not' is actually a really confusing thing to talk about. When you enter Mizuki's world, you actually kinda-sorta stop existing while you're there. You can still communicate with people on the outside, but you're actually wading through here as a projection of your physical form that isn't... really physical? I mean, it's functionally the same thing and it doesn't have any lasting effects, but right now you are -definitely not real-. You're as imaginary as everything around you is. The logic of this world zaps you into a weird sort of thoughtphantom that is more like the concept of you than it is... you you. Does that make any sense?" She would sigh either way. "Anyway, yeah. You aren't really here, but you are really here. It's all really freakin' weird and I've lived with it a lot longer than you have."

    Anyway, back to the scavenger hunt... by way of further exposition. "Eh... heh. I know where you're from. I'm not from here either. We have copies of the books, too, so we can come in here whenever we want just like you and... whoever the heck else apparently can. We visit this one sometimes when we get lonely, but if I tell you that, then I've probably told you everything. But! Uh." She would peek her head into the storeroom before looking back at Arthur again. "You still didn't tell me what you were looking for, so I can't really do much for you."
Mizuki     Kowaru... blinks. She might blush faintly at the 'cute girls' thing, but if she does, it's well concealed. "... uh. Did Mizuki ever tell you how becoming a Seeker -works-, exactly? People -choose- how they look after they become Seekers, so they're -- or, uh, we're -- only 'cute girls' because we picked that for ourselves after coming here. It just so happens that the vast majority of people interested in spending multiple lifetimes in Alice's Wonderland happen to be, big surprise, little girls. Or at least people who idealize that sort of life for themselves, y'know?" Her hands would meander to her pockets as she explains.

    She would quirk her brow as Arthur 'corrects' himself in the utterance of Mizuki's name, though. "S'okay. I already know that she uses Mizuki as her main name where you come from. We can see her -- actually, we can see you too, but that's probably a creepy thing to hear -- pretty much whenever we want to. We just can't -do- anything there unless you're Insidia and get special permissions from the rulebook." She blinks. "Ah... heh. But that probably made no sense at all. Should I explain? Or do you want me to just let you keep doing what you were doing? Chances are you're probably gonna find out more about us later either way, but meh." She would waver a hand.

    After commenting on where he came from, though, Kowaru would actually start smiling. It's surprisingly good-natured for a cryptic stranger, though. "Whether you're 'really here or not' is actually a really confusing thing to talk about. When you enter Mizuki's world, you actually kinda-sorta stop existing while you're there. You can still communicate with people on the outside, but you're actually wading through here as a projection of your physical form that isn't... really physical? I mean, it's functionally the same thing and it doesn't have any lasting effects, but right now you are -definitely not real-. You're as imaginary as everything around you is. The logic of this world zaps you into a weird sort of thoughtphantom that is more like the concept of you than it is... you you. Does that make any sense?" She would sigh either way. "Anyway, yeah. You aren't really here, but you are really here. It's all really freakin' weird and I've lived with it a lot longer than you have."

    Anyway, back to the scavenger hunt... by way of further exposition. "Eh... heh. I know where you're from. I'm not from here either. We have copies of the books, too, so we can come in here whenever we want just like you and... whoever the heck else apparently can. We visit this one sometimes when we get lonely, but if I tell you that, then I've probably told you everything. But! Uh." She would peek her head into the storeroom before looking back at Arthur again. "You wanted to find the key, right? That's probably somewhere around here. Let's see..." She would begin to rummage through a pile of discarded furniture off to the right of the door, but would seem to make no immediate progress.
Arthur Lowell     "Oh, okay, so this isn't some kind of like... Time shenanigans. Sweet, just COINCIDENCE TRAVELERS." Then a few nods to Kowaru from Arthur. "Yeah, I can TOTALLY GET the whole WEIRD CONCEPT thing. Basically I'm just becomin' a CHARACTER right? Just CONVERTIN' to FICTION THOUGHTFORM SHIT. I can DIG IT, makes TOTAL SENSE." He gestures back to the storeroom after he checks in the window of some large something or another.

    Then, oh hey, furniture! "Think it's somewhere under there? I can help with that, kinda." He grins and swaggers on over. "Don't worry about the creepsterism, I've gotten plenty of weird adventure voyeurs over the years. Here, mind if I try some gravity?" He'll just... Make the entire pile weightless via a wave of one magical hand if Kowaru lets him, ideally revealing anything behind, under, or amid it, and making it easier to pick through. Though a little chaotic to see. The effect is kind of beautiful. All, of course, only if given permission by Kowaru.

    And some grumbling on the side of all that. "Totally knew that. About the seekers. Totally didn't think you'd expect I was... Rrrrgh. Never mind." He is not grumpy with Kowaru, he is mostly grumpy with himself.
Mizuki     Use gravity? Hell, yeah, sure. "Go for it." As one would expect of one of the girls living in this world, she has absolutely no problem accepting that he could manipulate gravity because, if she wanted, she probably could too within the bounds of this reality. Still, that doesn't make it any less impressive when the junk goes weightless on them and starts dancing toward the ceiling. Kowaru would have to stop and marvel at this for a few moments before she's able to tear her attention away and look back to the floor. Unfortunately, the key isn't there, but it doesn't look like that worries her at all. Instead, she would just turn to Arthur and say, "Hey, would you mind doing that thing to as much of the room as you can focus on at once? Would probably make this whole thing go a lot faster."

    Assuming he obliges her, she would begin her search throughout the room, glancing at the objects as they float around and gather at the ceiling for easy analysis. It's at least ten to fifteen minutes before she finally finds the thing she's looking for, and when she does she almost misses it! It's just a plain silver watch winding key, apparently -- it doesn't stand out much.

    "Oh, crap, there it is!" When she notices it, she would allow herself to float up just enough to retrieve it. Then, after a small twirl back to the ground she would offer it to Arthur. "Here you go. But, uh. If I can ask a favor? Pleeaasseee don't tell anyone that we exist until the end, okay? It's supposed to stay a secret. Would you do that, please? If you do, I'll put in a good word for you with the others if it would ever help you out."
Arthur Lowell     "Oh, hey, SURE!" Arthur says. He enjoys this sort of thing! Watching gravity be zero is really, really fun, actually, especially if you have a whole bunch of random stuff to have floating around. He makes a bit of a show of it, slamming both hands together, rubbing them, and then shaking with the force as he hunches over and exudes the antigravitation, saturating as much of the room as possible in it! And he keeps it going as long as he needs to!

    "Oh hey, THANKS!" He calls out, cheerfully and gratefully. Then a few nods... Somberly. "Lady, this whole fuckin' adventure's been nothing but all these long secrets I gotta keep, one more ain't gonna hurt. I'll keep it fine, won't tell anyone, absolute promise." He says, in a tone that seems genuine and honest. "We'll be done with the secrets soon anyway, way I hear it. I can put the load on a little more 'till then." He grabs the key, and also transitions doing so into an agreeing handshake. Alright, just touch it right? To resume the memory? He'll do that. or take it back outside! He's not sure.
Mizuki     Kowaru would frown, if only faintly. "Yeah, I'm... really sorry about all this. We never meant for anyone else to get involved, but there were always the Seekers, and... well, frankly, we didn't expect the Multiverse to happen. You guys are a massive anomaly here. I think you're having a net positive effect, though." She would sigh. "If I can be really honest, we all miss coming to the world and having fun. We miss Shiori, too, even though she could be a bit emphatic and gloomy sometimes. Can't really blame a writer for that, though, right? But, uh... thanks. I'll let you watch the rest of this memory now. This was the last time we were all together like this, but it was so... average. Bland. Nothing special happened besides the obvious. Kinda depressing."

    With that, though, Kowaru would recede back into the chrysalis of metal from whence she had come. The world would regain color as soon as Arthur takes the key, leaving him to make the rest of the journey outside. When he arrives, he would see the same circle of people. Insidia would bring Shiori the key which she would then promptly bring the the front of the Clock Tower. And when she does, reality bends. A nauseating chime echoes across the entire world. Shiori's form would become a translucent outline of itself until two-halves are torn apart, one of which is thrown far away and the other absorbed into the Clock Tower. It feels like space itself is breaking in half throughout the whole thing which will likely not leave Arthur feeling very well after it finishes.

    And at the end, there's nothing. Next he's able to see, he would find himself floating amid an endless expanse of white and the occasional light mote that flits by. If he strains his eyes, though, he might see a person - Mizuki, curled into a distinctly familiar position and clutching a rose - floating amid the endless expanse. The Guide would appear after he's had time to let this visual sink in to bring him, too, back to the Nexus of Doors where Kimiko and Homura wait.
Mizuki     At the utterance of Faruja's next word, color returns to the room. From a room to the right of the lawful stage would emerge a girl clad in a soft white nightgown tied at the collar with a pink ribbon. Her eyes are a brilliant, gleaming emerald; her hair is a much humbler brown, cut at her shoulder and made to frame a distinctly, unnervingly apathetic visage. She would take her place at the witness's stand. Her eyes would scroll across the room until they reach the warbling, undefined form of the 'defendant', at which point she would sneer. Mizuki would would over to the girl and briefly lay a hand upon her shoulder. Softly, yet with a voice loud enough to spread across the whole room, she says, "Fret not. This will be the last time you must ever deign to look upon his grotesque form."

    "Grotesque?" The bizarre, warbling, disembodied voice that Faruja would know only through intuition to belong to that bygone mass would project itself again. "What a thing to call me, little girl. What a thing for you, when you're too young to know anything of the world, responsibility, or challenge! What a thing for you to criticize -ME- for indulging --" The voice stops short. Next Faruja would care to notice, Mizuki would be holding 'it' by the throat. Her eyes are tinged by fire. Her mouth is a contortion of indignation.

    In the following moments, blood is cast upon the hardwood of the floor. Crimson spatters decorate the papers lying at the defendant's table. Teeth fly in every direction. At the end of this gruesome dance, Mizuki would do but one thing further amid the screams that continually echo beyond perception: she would draw a quill. With that quill she would draw threads of light that would bind themselves -- and the mouth of the defendant -- shut. Mizuki would drop them back into their seat as they begin to curl into a little ball, now soundless. "I would tell you to stay your tongue," She would rasp, "but I believe you lack any such thing to -keep-, now. And so it shall ever be you conniving, insidious wretch. You will stay there. You will stay there and watch, helplessly, as your name is slandered, as your 'achievements' are mocked, and as your very existence is made nothing. You will do this as she," She would gesture to Telephone's precursor, "before you."

    At first, Telephone would have actually been -smiling- at all this. As things progress, though, her expression would become more... mixed. It's clear she's uncertain about whether this should proceed, but she is only that -- uncertain. Certainly not enough to call off whatever Mizuki has planned, and perhaps not even enough to maintain her concern. Either way, her countenance resumes its quiet, emotionless state as Mizuki returns to her side, brushing a fleck of blood from her cheek.

    "Now then, Emily," She would keep her eyes glued to the defendant who has just now risen back to a sitting position. He would immediately attempt to dart away, only to have his arms and legs locked into place by silver clamps. "tell me. How would you like to see him suffer? How should he be punished for his crimes before I cast him into a more lasting damnation? You need only say the words, and I will make it so. You need only dream, and it shall be." Telephone (or, rather, Emily) would stare a moment before quietly intoning, "Scare him. I don't care how, just make him fear. Make it so that he doesn't want to live anymore."

    The scene would pause. Everything would dye itself gray. Unlike last time, though, Faruja is tidily transported to a seemingly isolated room: a bedroom. In this place exist a closet, a bed, a pile of plush animals in a corner, a nightlight, a desk, and a door to the outside world. Nothing else really stands out, so Faruja will at least have a rather narrow list of choices when the Guide says,

    "You must find the relevant object to proceed."
Faruja Faruja can't help but /smile/ just a little bit. He'd never imagined Mizuki, in this life or previous ones, could be simply so commanding and brutal. It lifts his Inquisitorial heart to see the woman take such command. Ahh, if only he could rouse such fires and faith into her heart!

The rat swiftly shoves aside his mental musing in favor of watching the proceedings. By now, he's summoned up a table, and tea, which he idly sips as he takes notes on the whole affair. Having Dream Cheating powers in this place can be utterly wonderful.

Then the world changes after Emily makes her desires known, and they're in a bedroom. His tea and table are gone. Well, bloody abyss. Faruja takes the loss in stride as he begins to investigate the room. It's a distinctly small list this time. A little easier, perhaps.

"Well then. This is either the scene of the crime, or perhaps something relevent to the sentence that Miss Emily desires. Likely nothing of note in those stuffed animals. Nightlight is a possibility if this is Miss Emily's bedroom. A fear of the night perhaps? That, I think, is the crux of the matter. But whose? That of the defendent, or the victim?"

His tail flicks, and he looks about. Then, he looks to the desk.

"Well then, my dear Guide, let us see what is in that desk if you can, hmm? Always the best place to look for clues."
Mizuki     The Guide would nod with an "As you wish," as the pocket of the desk slides open. Its contents are surprisingly neat, holding several books, what looks to be a personal journal, pens, a set of artist's charcoal pencils, and... well, a note. The latter would be a bit conspicuous given how it peeks out of the cover of the journal that contains it. If Faruja should look it over, the bizarre letters would shift into his native tongue to read:

    'Dear mother,'

    'I am loathe to leave you, but I can no longer stay. Though I am young and, as father is so very happy to say, unwise, I am certain that the whole world cannot be like this. When I attend school, I see other girls who are so happy, so radiant, so self-assured. I see in them a sort of contentment that our lives would suggest to be improbable. So as much as you and father say this is 'normal' - as much as you say that every woman is simply meant to suffer the way we do - I cannot believe it. More than that, though, I don't -want- to believe it; I no longer hold any investment nor interest in what this world proclaims to be 'right' and 'wrong'. If that is the way of this world, so be it -- I will run to the ends of this woeful rock and plunge into the darkness of infinity to be rid of its obscene, senseless laws.'

    'Father would have us think that he is kind; that not all people are as gentle as he, or forgiving. I say that, if this is the case, then there are no men gentle enough on Earth. And he would say that we lack the right to contradict him; that he is the source of our income, and that we each live on his good graces. But I say I wish to be given a chance to sustain myself, and know that I would never be given the opportunity to make the attempt here. And father would say that you are my better -- that you are my better because, when he calls upon you to subject to our ritualistic torment, you do not speak a word in protest. But why shouldn't you? This is your life as well. As much as I may be told otherwise, I believe very much that it is, and that you should have - or at least, have had - your chance to seek some otherwhere.'

    'I pray one day that you'll come to feel as I do and flee from this place, but I can no longer wait with you to see if that day comes. I must seek to make myself now, lest I become so subdued to the instruments of my woe that I can do nothing but look on, helplessly, and curse my misfortune. I must run while I still have legs to run, and before father can break them as he seems to have broken you. With the final words that I etch on to this paper, let it be known that forsake to call him as much a day longer. Henceforth, he shall never be my father. He --'

    There, the letter abruptly ends. The room is coated in amber. Faruja would feel a presence behind his back, and his furs would likely stand on end.

    Should he look there behind him, he would see a warbling, static-ridden figure clutching the very note he had just read. He would see Emily standing at one end of the room, fearfully looking on as her prose is read. In the end, there would be a merciless cry of rending, of -tearing-, as the shreds of the note are flung across her quarters.
Mizuki     "What rubbish is this?" The phantom would ask. "Did you really think to leave? Did you really think I would let you? Stupid girl. Foolish girl." The figure would phase through Faruja, rifling through the desk drawer. "You've been getting these horrid ideas from these books, haven't you? I knew I was a fool to allow you such a kindness. I knew that you would turn againt me if I looked away for but an instant." He would take out a book of matches. The girl would scream "No!" and throw herself at him, only to be struck away and thrown to the floor. "I will see to it that you never have them again. And then I will see to it that you never have the means with which to write such obscenities as long as you live. You are my daughter. You are -mine-, to do with as I will." He would draw a knife from a holster at his pocket and glance to the girl's hands.

    "And once this night is through, you will never forget this again."

    The memory would freeze. Faruja would notice many differences, now -- the desk drawer has come out of the desk and been hurled to the floor; the covers of the bed have been mussed; the pile of plush animals has likewise; and the door to the closet has been flung open. Like before, nothing stands out, but there is at least a limited area in which he must search.
Faruja Faruja is never one to turn down some evidence, and so he'll go to pluck the note. The story that follows is enough to cause the Inquisitor's very soul to burn with fury. To shackle a wife and a mere girl, to do such horrid /things/ to them as though they were mere property only has the rodent seething and snarling. For a moment, he wishes for nothing more than that very specter to come before him to face his wrath and judgement.

Something that he very nearly gets to do, as the phantom...and assumed defendent, phases straight through the ratling. True to form, the hot-headed young Inquisitor tries to reach out to strangle the wretch from behind with his bare hands, but it all proves useless. It's a vision after all, and an incorporeal one.

A phantom with a knife, at that going for a girl. He's seen some terrible things, natural and supernatural, but this base defilement has the rat praying that he could /do/ something for the girl. But it's all for naught, no doubt. Instead, looking to the girl, then the door, he considers.

"If memory serves, the girl still had her hands at the trial. So, then, she escaped. But how?" A glance to the closet, then the door.

He chooses the closet first. The girl, after all, hardly seems to be struggling. He'll start to hunt there for anything relevent, even as he gets a good look at both the phantom and the poor, terrified girl.

To the former, he'll simply summon up a broken bottle and toss it at the bastard vindictively.

"Bloody git! I pray ye art burning in the lowest circle of the Abyss." Spits the rat before getting back to work. Inquisitors, it turns out, are very efficient at ransacking places.
Mizuki     "She did not necessarily escape." The Guide's voice is completely indifferent even now. "Though this is an event that occurred in her past, she was in a different body at the trial. A spiritual body. She had been converted into a form more complementary to the fabric of Mizuki's universe; she had become a Seeker. Hence, any damage rendered to her now would be completely invalidated by the point where you saw her." As she says this, though, Faruja is likely already tearing the place apart. Consequently, he may not have time to process fully the ramifications of what she says, but by the time he finds the object that he's looking for it would all come flooding back to him. Once he's torn through the bed, the pile of plush toys, the desk drawer; once the bottle has had its time to shatter against the wall, he would find himself in the closet. And there, on top of a pile of clothes, he would find something. It's...

    ... it's a severed thumb.

    Slim, small, youthful.

    There's no question as to whom it belongs, and he would soon find its twin on the carpet in front of him. The man is gone now; the amber light of agony has left this place and been replaced by the solemn blue of mourning. The girl lies on the ground, now, surrounded by a dark substance that can be assumed to be blood. She struggles to clutch her hands together, but she only succeeds insofar as she is able to lock her fingers together. After all, she is missing the two crucial things that would allow her to 'grasp'. Suddenly, the words of the man would echo in Faruja's ears:

    "And then I will see to it that you never have the means with which to write such obscenities as long as you live."

    He cut off her thumbs.

    The scene of the room would fade back to the courtroom where, likewise, the cringing man's body has been flung upon the left pedestal of a golden balance of weights. Each of his limbs is staked into the dish in which he lays. From nowhere, Mizuki would summon a giant knife which then begins to levitate in the airs above the man. She would summon another knife which she would hand to Emily. The larger knife would move along with this motion, too, suggesting that it's some sort of voodoo control mechanism for its larger half. "Go ahead," Mizuki would say, "go ahead and do what you will. Hurt him until you're satisfied. Hurt him until your soul is pure, and I will withdraw with you to my -- to our -- paradise of dreams."

    Emily would grip the blade, slowly lowering it to the man. He would scream and flail against his bindings, something sick and ebony in coloration pouring out of his wounds. The balance upon which he lays would slowly be taken out of equilibrium by the spread of the liquid, bringing his damned body closer and closer to the floor. The knife would follow him until... until...

    The smaller knife would clatter to the ground. The large knife does so in tandem, narrowly missing the man and sparing his life. Mizuki would look back with no small degree of astonishment at the girl, only to have her hug her closely. She's crying. "Just take me there now," She would beg, "I want no more to do with this violence. Just take me away to this promised land so I never have to be hurt again. Take me to a place where true love exists. Take me to a place where I can be secure in it forever." Mizuki, barely able to conjure a response, would gingerly hold the back of her head. She would, however, nod, and quietly whisper an "Of course." The balances would disappear. The man, screaming, would pass on unto whatever abyss awaited him. And there would be left the pair of Mizuki and Emily, all alone.

    The scene would freeze. The Guide would step in front of Faruja and bow gently. "That concludes this recollection. Once you have had your time to say your peace with this place, inform me, and we shall return forthwith to the Nexus of Doors."
Faruja Plucking up that thumb is perhaps one of the most grim times in his entire life. It's so very easy to look upon a battlefield or mass-murder, but this little digit in his hands? It's soul-searingly horrifying. He very nearly drops the evidence, before remembering to bag the bloody thing. An unnecessary gesture, but Faruja is certainly mentally judging the wretch.

And then he's borne witness to that which caused the poor girl so much suffering. Those horrid words echo in his ears, and he's at once weeping for Emily, and cursing the insane man who could do such a thing to his child.

Faruja always loved his Father, and the mere concept pains him to the bone.

Faruja watches as it all plays out in the courtroom, silent and still visibly reeling from what he's witnessed. His head tilts. That precious little girl, so hurt by one she had tried to call Father, showed mercy at the end. The Inquisitor can't help but find his faith in people restored just a little bit at the act before Emily is swept away.

"...Better bloody person than I am, Emily. Good on ye."

With a deep sigh, Faruja stands, and nods to the Guide.

"I always knew there was more to Mizuki than meets the eye, however, /this/..." Faruja laughs, nervous, angry, and respectful all at once.

"Well, mayhaps the dear girl and I truly are not so different indeed. At least she is in a better place now. Still, a bit amateurish in the end. Better to let the mind do /that/ sort of work."

A hand wave. "Still. I much prefer tea and books to torture with dear Mizuki. This 'Emily'...God love her, keeping Mizuki from /my/ path. Alright then, back to the Doors in a moment." He'll take a moment to walk over, placing a phantasmal kiss upon both girls' cheeks before absolving them both of their sins.
Mizuki     The Guide steps forward as if out of nowhere, hands folded behind her back in some gesture of knowing. In reference to the question of 'what Mizuki would have given the artist as a parting gift', she would have this to say: "Even artists have those they revere. Some look to nature; some look to Gods; some look to other artists. The item that Mizuki bequeathed to the artist involves all three of these things in some degrees." She would pause a moment before adding, with a meaningful look at Ayako, "You would know best of all what this thing is, because it was a very specific sort of color used to bring it into existence. Your color, we might say. With a paintbrush, you could well reproduce that thing this instant. If you are unable to find or create it through some other means, you might consider doing just that."
Staren     Staren is trying to get ahold of his recordings from then, when the Guide appears and offers a hint! Staren puzzles over this, until she says 'your color' to Ayako. "Watercolors! A set of watercolor paints! Wait, no, I don't see how gods work into it... a watercolor painting of a god, by a famous artist?" Staren concludes.
Mizuki     The Guide wouldn't respond in words, but would nod faintly in Staren's direction. "It may or may not have been painted in watercolors initially, mind."
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako rests her head against the brush of her floating broomstick as she continues to think. "Hmm... what could it have been...?" Her head moves up slightly to look over at the Guide as she speaks. She nods her head slowly. "Huh..."

    When the Guide looks over at her meaningfully, Ayako blinks her eyes slowly. "I would?" Her head inclines to the side gently, even as she's lying down. "My color? Oh. Oohh." She shakes her head slowly. "I haven't the foggiest idea... I think this one's up to you, Staren!"
Staren     Staren blinks, finally getting a response from home and playing back their first encounter with the artist. She's painting... one of the paintings? One of her tools, maybe? Her smock?

    'Oh, so THAT is what you've come for. Your precious number.'

    Staren's eyes widen. "The /number/! Mizuki gave her the number!"

    He fastforwards through. Wincing at the part where he foolishly tries to make heroic determinators do the impossible, and at being told off for it.

    The number... it was just a light. He frowns for a moment, then shrugs. They can imagine anything, right? So he holds out his hand, and a light appears floating over it. He walks up to the two frozen figures, placing the light between them.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako blinks her eyes slowly and then sits up on her broomstick. "A-ahh! So that means... this is where she got the number?" She shuffles a bit on her broom so that she's sitting properly on it again and flies over to Staren. Her amber gaze looks down at the scene as Staren places the light in Mizuki's hands, curious as to what is about to happen.
Mizuki     At the speed of thought, a pair of light bars joined by two more above and beneath them would appear in Staren's hands -- the Roman numeral for the letter two. As soon as he lays his eyes on them, though, they would erupt in static. Their shape would bend improbably back and forth, as though they were being ripped apart by the angry hand of reality itself. Staren himself would likely feel a splitting pain in his head, followed by a rush of nausea. The number would explode into fragments and then again into millions of shards of light. Each light would eventually cease to move and freeze in place, leaving tiny, eerie white holes in the visual of the world.

    In the midst of all this, the Guide would approach him, calm as ever. She put her fist to her mouth, clear her throat, and says,

    "In this world, one can imagine and create anything of their choosing, barring those things that are so integral to its function and existence that they should never be altered. Among these things are the numbers, which are simultaneously forces of nature and keys to a device that can rend this world in twain. They can not and shall not be reproduced by anyone, including the one who created this place." Once she has finished, her arms would meander behind her back once more. She would finish by citing its apparent source: "The Decalogue; Article Four, space fourty-seven."

    Looks like they're going to have to find some other way to reproduce a number.
Staren     "What the... agh!" Staren holds his hand to his head and stumbles back.

    After this is all explained, Staren blinks at the guide. "But... I didn't mean to call the actual number, just the image of it to complete the puzzle..." He shakes his head. "I guess that's not the answer, then." He starts pacing back and forth, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Mizuki     The guide would add, briefly, "Its exact form, even lacking its properties, is still tied inextricably to its 'definition' in the law I've cited. Some other facisimile of it would likely suffice in this instance, however."
Staren     Staren blinks and looks at her. "What, like, a picture?" he holds out his hand and a small picture frame appears, simply containing a roman numeral II. If it doesn't start misbehaving in which case he tries to dismiss it, he walks over to the Mizuki image and tries to put it in her hand.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako blinks her eyes quickly at the static that suddenly emerges from the things that Staren is forming. "Huh... that's not normal-" And then the number starts the bend and then becomes torn apart. "Eep!" She shields herself with her hat by shoving the brim down as the number explodes into fragments and shards of light.

    The brim of the witch hat goes up so that Ayako can peek out of it as the Guide speaks. "A-ahh..." Ayako blinks her eyes slowly as she then looks towards Staren. "A... Are you alright, Staren?" When she sees Staren resuming to think, she sighs softly in relief. And resumes thinking.
Mizuki     That, it seems, would do the trick. Immediately after the picture is placed in Mizuki's hand, the scene would begin to move again. A bright flash would dominate the area for several moments, the light itself seeming to emerge from the number. Even if the offering wasn't the genuine article, this seems to be; this is likely because this is a view of the past. The number in this memory might well be the same instance as the one currently present at the Clock Tower in the present world, and thus would not be a duplicate. Hence, there's no violation of the rules. But, no matter -- it worked! And it seems that Mizuki and the artist have resumed their discussion.

    "A number?" The Artist would tilt her head at Mizuki, who would respond with an affirmative nod of her own. "Yes. As you know, they... catalyze imagination. Put things into better focus. Keep it safe here that it might substantiate this realm and allow it to endure through my absence, won't you?" The Artist would nod, albeit hesitantly, and accept the number. Soon after, it would flee into the woman's chest. Her form would pulse briefly with light, and Mizuki's hand would take hers. "You have become the law of this microcosmal projection of my thoughts. As it is with the larger world and myself, your fate and the fate of this city are forever intertwined. So long as it lives, so, too, will you; if ever it should die, likewise." Mizuki would let her arm fall back to a neutral position at her side. "Do you understand the responsibility you have just undertaken?"

    The Artist would nod, though she still appears... dazed, somehow. "Y-Yes. Yes, I believe I do." And Mizuki would bob her head in kind. "Good. Then, I have but one more question." She would gesture about her person, holding her palms flattened in the direction of her listener as if in presentation. "What would you hae this place -- your new home -- called?" The Artist would bat her lashes several times, glancing around. "Hmm..." And continues to do so for a long while hence before finally, cautiously recommending, "... the... Mystical Waterway?"

    That would draw a smile, as well as a quirk of Mizuki's brow. "... how straightforward. You surprise me. But, so be it! Henceforth, we shall call this place the 'Mystical Waterway'. I hope you come to form as many wonderful memories here one day as once you did in the Clock Tower. You will be missed, Alicia, but I now release you - the Artist - to your rightful place of dwelling." In finality, Mizuki would curtsy. "Fare thee well."
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako blinks her eyes slowly as she watches... and the scene resumes! "A-ahh! It worked!" She smiles softly and claps her hands softly. "Good work, Staren!" She floats closer to Mizuki and the Artist as she listens quietly. Her head inclines to the side gently as she listens to Mizuki talk about the Number. She then smiles softly as she continues to listen.
Mizuki     Once this discussion has completed, the world would swirl. Next the pair would look, they would see themselves inside the artist's home -- the crammed hut with all the incomplete paintings, splattered colors, and tarps strewn about. In the heart of it all would sit the artist, her beret atop her head, fussing over the details of one of her many creations. In a moment of reprieve, though, she would stop; she would lay her brush down upon her easel and twirl on her rotating stool, facing the ceiling. When finally its revolutions end, she would remark in a quiet, echoing, mournful tone, "... why must I stay here?" She would close her eyes. "I draw. I sculpt. All my life I've created these things so that I might share this city with someone. But no -- nothing."

    "After all these years," She would continue, "I still remain alone. This is an empty world. Why would you bind me to this place when you knew it would drive me mad? Why? You could not earnestly have thought I would be happy here forever." A hand would raise, slowly, gradually lowering itself upon her eyes. "Oh, how I envy you. You may come and go as you please. Yes, you may even venture beyond this world if you so choose -- it's all open to you. And yet I am kept here, forever. This place is a cage. A cage from which I can do not but sit and lust after the outside world. That I might one day have access to it again... I dream of this. Yet, I can't; I've been bound here by ball and chain."

    Her arm would fall slack at her side again. There would be a lasting silence, though her voice would eventually break it again. "Where did I leave it...?" She would glance tiredly around her studio. "The access to my room in the tower... where has it gone? She bid me to keep it as a memoir, but oh how it seems to have fled from me..."

    Again, a pause. Again, a reiteration of the command from the Guide, after which they're both left to their devices.
Staren     Staren simply watches.

    When the Artist... no, Alicia, complains of loneliness, he frowns. "Why didn't Mizuki make her friends? Or at least other people for this place? Wait... but there /were/ people, when we came here. And she seemed to be friends with Sheep and Telephone..." They must be the result of something that hasn't happened yet. Staren approaches the scene. "What would Mizuki make some kind of... access key to the tower look like? My first thought is, well..." he holds out his hand and a modern cut key appears. After a moment, he shakes his head, "No, that's not Mizuki's style, is it?" It becomes an old-fashioned key, with ornate little designs around the head, like the ones in the setting of his amulet.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako blinks her eyes and looks about when the world swirls. "Ah. It's her house." She hops off of her broom and walks her way over to the Artist as she spins on her rotating stool. A soft smile crosses her face until she speaks. "Ah. An artist without anyone to view or share their work. That's... that's pretty miserable." She sighs softly.

    And then Ayako winces when the Artist laments over being alone and trapped in this place. Her amber eyes tremble for a moment. A bad memory, perhaps? Her mouth opens to say something, but then it slowly closes. It's not like she can hear her. "Ah. Access back to the tower?"

    Ayako looks over to Staren and smiles softly. "It really isn't, huh. I'd think... it would be something like this!" And... a doorknob shaped like a bell appears in Ayako's hands.
Mizuki     It seems like Staren and Ayako's combined answer was sufficient this time! As soon as the ornate key and doorknob pair is imagined into existence and presented to the Artist, the vision would fast-forward to a point where she has found it herself. Back on her chair, now, the Artist would lean back on her stool, twirling the key around in the light of a small bulb hanging from the ceiling. She would sigh after a while, hugging the thing back to her chest and shutting her eyes. Several moments later she would take a long, beige thread from another easel, slipping it through one of the holes at the head of the key and tying a knot. Then she would wear it around her neck as though it were jewelery, pinching its end with her left thumb and index finger just once more to confirm its existence. To herself she would sigh and say,

    "One day. One day, I'll see the Clock Tower again. One day." Then she would take the doorknob from her lap and fit the key to its hole. Just to be sure that it still fits.

    This tale, at least, is one that seems to have ended well.

    At that point, though, the visual would freeze again. The Guide would appear in front of them and, after a brief look at the Artist, confirm, "This concludes this recollection. Thank you for viewing it in its entirety. Once you are prepared to leave this place behind, please inform me, and we shall return to the Nexus of Doors forthwith."
Staren     Staren watches, curious to see how the key works... but then the vision stops. He nods, and takes a somewhat leisurely look around, wondering if any of these details will be important, then turns to Ayako. "I guess I'm ready. You?"
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako blinks her eyes as the vision continues. "Ah. Eh heh... we made the right answer together." She giggles softly and walks over to the Artist, watching her quietly. Her eyes blink again quickly. "Huh? You aren't going? Just because you're overseeing a region doesn't mean you can't visit Mizuki..." Even if she can't hear her.

    Once the world freezes again she looks back towards the Guide and Staren. She nods her head once. "Un. I'm ready."
Mizuki     Whatever situations the members of the group have emerged from, all of their number would return to find a quiet harbor among the ever-reaching black. Waves of the dark stuff gingerly brush upon the would-be shoreline upon which the doors they had all departed into initially rest, and on whose expanse they would also find themselves held aloft of the raven sea. One by one the sojourners return to this spot and join together, each of their respective doors falling into a two-dimensional state before clapping against the ground and receding into the sands of this aether shoal.

    Eventually, all the doors dissipate with the sole exception of one rather simply wrought, wooden panel with a glimmering star mounted on the arc above its entryway. The Guide remains stationed before it, seated on a simple chair she has pulled from no distinct point at all, leafing through the pages of a book with no text.

    Her eyes are quiet, yet otherwise still void of any sort of defining characteristics; they're pools of white as wide and indistinct as the black one beneath them, and whenever her gaze may rise their edges ripple with a sort of ghostly, knowing flame. She wouldn't volunteer any information whatsoever as the others pass as she's fairly sure that the formula behind all this is evident enough by now. Her role has, for better or for worse, drawn to a close. She knows this, and in spite of her own nonemotive demeanor she seems almost... resigned. She projects an aura of absence, and one could almost swear that her body has grown translucent as a result.

    There presumably won't be any express prompting, but their next door would appear open to them. Outright inviting, in fact -- the door slides itself open to reveal a starlit path and a storm of something akin to a child's scribbles. It would hold itself there to accept their collective presence, and would remain so. This means that, as any proper host should, it would also afford them any time they should like to exchange information before revealing what little of its own it still retains.

    For some reason, some sounds of nature suffuse this area where they seemed entirely absent before. The ginger quaking of tides and the equally soft whisper of a gust of wind blows by. If one focuses intensively, they might even hear a rustle of some trees that would, at least to their eyes, ever remain invisible.
Staren     Staren steps out to find himself in a harbor of BLACK GOO OH NO THE FILTH HAS TAKEN OVER! "Don't touch it!" he backs away, possibly bumping into Ayako or the door, then jumps as it hits the ground, turning to watch it disappear. "...Huh."

    He turns around, taking in his surroundings in alarm, when he spies the next door. "Let's get out of here!" he hurries towards it.
Faruja Drifting back into the 'main room' of sorts, peering back out upon all of that blackness, Faruja straightens his robes and very slowly tries to put himself into something resembling presentability. He looks more than a little angry and disturbed by /something/.

The Inquisitor gives a nod to the Guide as he awaits everyone to gather back up. That transparency is a bit unnerving, but as things go, many of the denizens in Mizuki's world are /odd/. Hopefully this one won't dissappear like so many others. Briefly, he says a prayer about his boney convert. God help the skeleton.

A glance to his compatriots, and Faruja crosses his chest.

"It seems our dear Mizuki was once something akin to well.." A smirk. "An Inquisitor. Quite fiery at that. It seemed she presided over the cases of a poor young girl whose Father..." Cue a scowl.

"Justice was given. And it seems she took the girl into her own realm. Something of a collector of the downtrodden away from their woes into this dream-world of...herself." Explains the rat of his own trials and tribulations.

Then he's following Staren through the door. A door that suddenly has crazy cartoonish scribble-verse behind it. Faruja pauses.

"Oh /damnit/ Mizuki! Ye art either enamored with children's stories or ye got into mine liquor cabinet." Grumbles the rat at that swirlish cartoony mass.
Homura Akemi     "Why are you in such a hurry?" Homura walks in from behind, although would not cross over to the next door yet. Rather, she stays with the Guide, allowing the group to go forward if they want to. An idle answer, to Faruja, though:

    "She has lived many lives, the Guide told me. Likely she has been more things than we would care to list and count if we'd seen it all. We should make sure not to talk about this to her the wrong way; many things here may be painful to remember or acknowledge." Her glance shifts towards Staren. "Yes, that means you."

    Then back to the Guide.

    "What happens to you once we leave?"
Kimiko Shinobu     Kimiko looks carefully to the water as Staren jumps, but makes no move to hurry. She is in full stone-faced mode, making no effort to explain, elaborate, nor inform regarding her own, prior journey. Truthfully, she doesn't actually know what to make of it. She's missing too much to really connect events together. Just as well to say nothing of an uncertainty.

    She walks to the remaining door, but will pause for a few moments while the others do whatever they need to gather themselves, before she steps through.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako emerges from the door absentmindedly sweeping the ground with the broom in her hands. Nevermind that the ground is full of sand and there's no point in doing so! It's just sort of a habit. She walks her way over to the Guide and smiles softly at her.

    Ayako, is of course quite sensitive to other's emotions, and despite how nonexpressive the Guide may be, she does note the resigned mood. She cheerfully pats the Guide on the head gently once. Or at least tries to. Even if she isn't so material, she still will do it anyway.

    The open door that practically begs to be gone through is eyed, but Ayako doesn't make any moves towards it. Rather, she glances around and waits for the others.

    She blinks her eyes quickly at Staren. "A-ahh... umm... well... yeah. I won't touch it, Staren." Ayako smiles at the people who have already arrived.
Riva Banari Riva is quiet as she arrives back into the gathering point for everyone, the door vanishing behind her. She turns away towards the edge of the harbor and hunches down on the sand, looking out into the black sea for several moments. She doesn't speak to anyone, just listening, watching the environment and the dark waves that roll in. Slowly, she breathes deeply in her reverie, and then she stands, turning away to smile to the others again. She steps towards the center and the inviting doorway, looking to the others present. "Staren. Relax, Everything is fine. You only have to look at it for a second to realize that." She says, simply.

"Mizuki had spent a good deal of time attempting to create new, free-willed entities wholesale as well. It brings up a lot of old questions about how connected the creator is to the created." There is a pause, and she looks down. "She wasn't very successful."

Riva instead turns to look towards the Guide, looking at the translucent being for several moments. She tilts her head, considering something, and walks over to her, sitting down across from her and drawing her knees up, continuing to watch her. She doesn't seem that intent on being in a hurry.
Arthur Lowell     Arthur emerges from his door with a somber look, but it's whistful instead of being miserable. He stops patiently to wait for his door to fall over, before he heads on over to the Guide. He just sort of gives Staren an amused, good-natured stare. Faruja gets a nod. "Yeah. She really... Has a bit of fire in her about pulling unfortunate types out of situations like that. Kind of an escapism volunteer, you know? And that usually means giving a middle finger to the old real circumstances."

    Riva gets Arthur squatting down somewhere nearby fairly quickly. "Man." He says. "Yeah. Making that sort of thing... It's tough. I don't think my friend in charge of that even really did it herself, in the... Usual way you'd say it. That's tough stuff for her to try." He makes a contemplative noise before he stands. "So do we head on in?" He asks to the Guide. If she confirms that they should, well...

    Arthur will lift off of the ground, gently, and just drift on into the freshly opened door, leisurely, in a whistful sort of posture. Making sure to give a listen to the answer to Homura's question, though.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako inclines her head to the side gently and then raises her hand, taking it away from her broom. "Um... Ummm! Many of the significant people in Mizuki's world are her rescues as well! And... and..." She inclines her head to the other side. "Mizuki gave them the numbers to give stability to the areas they settled in."

    Ayako sighs softly as her free hand swings her broom up and rests the stick against her shoulder. "But... well..." Ayako's eyes somewhat unfocus for a moment as she glances away. "Living all alone in a world that... well..." She shakes her head quickly... and doesn't finish the sentance.
Mizuki     The Guide turns another page of her book, addressing Homura without, as could be expected, any express eye contact with them. "I die," She chimes with apathy, "at least until such a time comes that the contents of this tome should be remembered in full, or otherwise until it should be opened again to thus introduce the possibility that it may be known. In either case I would return to life as the personification of its contained knowledge. Ideally, that incarnation would take the form of the knowledge itself, but as things stand I am relegated to this position you see me in now." What's she on about now? It might be her obtuse way of saying that she lives as long as the information she represents does.

    The Guide shuts her book only when Arthur brings up the prospect of entering the final door. She would look to him and nod. In her eyes, he could almost swear that he had seen yet more of those odd, juvenile scrawls -- some semblance of past events, he might implicitly sense, constantly playing out as though they were constantly shifting and squirming beneath the flesh that she presents herself with. She would stand and dust off her skirt, now, taking step after step toward the door.

    One... two... three...

    The closer she comes, the more her physical features erode. Her hair would lose all color, eventually only being defined by outlines of what would appear to be black ink. The interior of her body and face would become transparent, and by the time she has disappeared into the lighted corridor of the final room she would look like one of those myriad scribbles herself. In the end, even Ayako would not be able to sense any feeling from her; at that point, her status as a sentient being would be lost. The personality and body that had been thrust upon her would give themselves over to the undertow of thought, and there would be no more of her. At least, not until 'next time'.

    But, Arthur - and any others who follow him - head in.

    Briefly, their view would be obfuscated by a brilliant yet painless white light that envelops their view. It's that light one might imagine to see at the end of their lives; that incandescence that might herald the life that flashes before one's eyes. And it does indeed conjure a life, though one very far removed from any those present would recognize. Slowly the light would give way to the Reason of physical construction again. The other members of their party would again be visible; the room would resolve into a late Victorian sort of apartment with cream wallpaper and a matching carpet; a window would provide a view to a lovely, sunlit park which, in kind, returns glorious radiance to the room.

    This radiance lightly filters on to a desk where a young woman is seated. She looks precisely as the Guide did before, only her eyes are a deep, chocolate hue rather than pure white. Her hair is a similar, creamy brown and hangs loose upon her, framing a bespectacled countenance and a look of solemn determinacy. Fervently, she writes several notes to herself: she makes sketches that seem some fervent attempt to mirror DaVinci's impossible genius. She writes something that could function as an epitaph. She flusters about mountains of pages neatly carven with ink and graphite, until finally she would set them down.

    She pats the desk with two hands. She might mouth the words 'I have it,' but this memory is evidently soundless; nothing can be heard, only seen. As if that weren't enough to make one thing this a dream, each edge that composes the objects and people would warble and shift as though these were memories of some time long, long past, lying now on the cusp of forgetfulness.

    The girl would dash out of a door behind the point at which all the sojourners appear, stacks of paper trailing behind her as she scales the breach unto the dead of night. Where could she be going at such a late hour?

    The scene shifts. They'll not have to wait long for reply.
Faruja Faruja nods to those returning, but Riva and Homura in particular get his attention.

"Painful past lives where she has tried to bring justice to those whom it hath failed, bring rest to those cruelly hurt, and to create beings..." His teeth grit. He'll have to swat Mizuki eventually for /that/ one.

"Of free will and no doubt good purpose. Why I do believe our dear Mizuki is quite attempting to build a Utopia of sorts. Oh, idealism, ye art a path shrewn with the sharpest of rocks and nails." From angry to ruminating, the Inquisitor is /not/ having a good day. But at least they have a way forward.

"Yes, 'kids gloves' with the poor Lady."

A glance to Arthur, and his tail flicks.

"Though is escaping reality good for them? Or for her, for that matter?" Muses the rat with a light frown.

But then in a flash of light as they move in, they're suddenly in an apartment. Faruja goes quiet, watching the brown-haired woman putter about like a mad artist, or maybe one of his scribes during a very busy day.

"...Well. If this /too/ is an aspect of Mizuki, it seems she was quite..." What's a polite word for this?

"Energetic. Come, AFTER HER!" Seems someone /else/ is energetic today.

Just before he tries to dash out the door, the scene shifts. Faru trips and scowls.

"Right, Faruja, 'tis a bloody memory."
Staren     Staren is still wearing a sort of wetsuit, indicating the area he just came from. He stops when Homura asks him and says not to fail at diplomacy. As he's about to reply, Riva says it's /not/ Filth. He Imagines a long stick to poke it with and test -- satisfied, he tosses the stick in the water and calms down a bit, before following Arthur in.

    His eyes squint in the light, even if it is painless. "What's this," he breathes as the scene appears, "the mortal Mizuki once was?" He starts to run after the woman when she runs out of sight, but the scene is changing...
Homura Akemi     "I see," Homura answers, frowning.

    As they go in, she still attempts to talk to the Guide. "Have you considered there may be someone here with the capabilities to let you out? Rather than quietly fade into the book, you could at least attempt to leave and to become a person of your own. It would certainly not be the first time Mizuki's psyche or memories give birth to a full individual."

    But, it's conjecture. She has no idea if anyone would be able to do this here. Maybe Arthur with space magic? Or she could bodyjack someone, if she can. But then that's why she used the word 'attempt'. She can't guarantee anything.

    Where the others hurry along to chase the 'new girl', Homura follows more calmly, perhaps even trying to catch some of the papers trailing behind her to see what's on them. She's interested in hearing the Guide's reply, before progressing too deep.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako of course follows after Arthur. Her broom goes right back down from her shoulder onto the ground. Yes, she's sweeping again. Her eyes blink quickly as the white light obscures her view... and then blink quickly at what lies past. She glances around quickly and then looks curiously at the not-quite-Guide and what she's writing. And then blinks her eyes just as quickly when the girl suddenly runs out of the room. She eeps loudly at the sudden paper trail and quickly moves to try to catch the falling papers. Maid habits die hard!
Arthur Lowell     "You're not understanding." Arthur says to Homura. He's watching the events of what seems like a more mundane sort of thing... And he talks as he begins to drift after the Guide-like girl. "She's not a person the way we're people. She's like... The voice on an audiobook. She's a person-shaped mouthpiece for the data here. She exists when she's expressed and she stops when she's not. I think? I might be wrong. Don't quote me on it. But if she's not screaming to be let out by now... Yeah, I don't think it's an issue."

    Arthur drifts along and nods an aside to Faruja. "For them? Probably. Reality can be shit sometimes. If Mizuki had offered me a way out of meteor hell, I'da taken it. Would have been indecisive shit about it, but..." And then he keeps powering onwards.
Riva Banari Riva nods to Arthur as he squats near her. She reaches out and gives him a consoling touch on the shoulder and a smile. "I wouldn't know yet. Maybe some day." She says, and stands herself, looking to the Guide, who moves towards the door and loses their... selfhood as they reach the entryway.

Riva looks on with widening eyes, and thrusts a hand out, about to say something, anything... But it's too late. This is something that has to happen, and the Guide seems to have no problems with going through with it. Faruja's call jolts her into action, and Riva heads into the door with Arthur, waiting to understand what is to come.

Light... And the past. But not of Mizuki.

... Or is it? Riva looks over the silent memory. She watches with intensity, clearly trying to absorb the environment before it is lost, or changes. After all, what is the past worth if no one remembers it?
Mizuki     The view of the Victorian room would be banished -- fractured and scattered into a number of twisting, surrealistic shapes. They would recombine at the apex of one's view to slowly explode forth into another visual. It begins in black-and-white. The girl from the office room is standing in the heart of a library; according to the banners hung from the balconies, it's one belonging to a university system. Color would slowly return to the environment to reveal their color as some mixture of red, black, and gold, and the chamber otherwise wrought of many tan and beige hues.

    The girl slowly approaches a massive, corrugated entity covered in a dusty tarp. She would unveil this 'thing' with a swift stroke of a hand which tosses it aside; telepathy or the like. So this is a magical world, it would seem, as indicated by both her own perceived ability and all the magically lighted lamps that line this corridor.

    This fact may clash with the exact likeness of this contraption she reveals. It's an obelisk of gleaming metal rods which swivel from side to side as though alive. Two orbs at the end of constantly undulating pistons reach to the arcing, marble ceiling with the fervor of a crab's pincers. Gauges of every figure and form point their vivid red arrows in every which direction, seeming entirely too ambivalent to decide on a specific numerical measure. This all quickly proves itself irrelevent, though; what those onlookers are more likely to be interested in is the girl, and what she does with this device.

    She would draw a key from a necklace at her chest, turning it into a hole almost obscured by a metal grill - an armored helmet, almost - which guards jealously. At this gesture a pair of those metal limbs would move forward of the apparatus symmetrically, revealing a brown leather seat similar to the one in the machine seen at the end of the Book of Heaven. Rather than going to sit down there, though, the girl would reach into her pouch.

    She would remove a single object: a light novel by some name that can scarcely be made out given the irritating warble of the world. The girl would merely smirk at her small possession before tossing it roughly into the chair at the heart of this industrial demon. Then she would travel to another panel at the thing's left side, fussing with it until she finds a pair of levers. One is labeled 'Forward'; the other is labeled 'Backward'. She would push both labels upwards and adjust dials to each of their sides that designate absurd figures leading to the most far-off reaches of Prehistory and the most fanciful imaginings of possibility.

    The girl would back away from the device which has begun to churn. Alarms would flash everywhere. The joints of the pistons would begin to emit smoke. The doors that had opened before screech closed as lights in the rooms at the upper tiers of the library would click on. Professors would amble out in their nightgowns and caps, rubbing at their eyes. Secretaries would follow, all of them bewildered.

    The girl would spot them, and they her. Each does so with some urgency, the professors rushing down to her so quickly that some trip, and the girl fervently resuming her operation of the dials. The smoke pouring from the machine begins to collect at the roof. A deep, supernatural 'whirring' sound echoes from the heart of the thing.

    On the inside where none could glimpse, the chair is rising. The book is twisting and bending unnaturally, as though it were to be cast out of existence. In the end, it is, but in its place is left a vortex -- a neon bulb of colors that mortals cannot perceive that begins to spread out of the confines of the seat, and then the apparatus entire.
Mizuki     Soon, that light has entirely consumed the machine. The girl looks on with a curious grin as the professors who had come to arrest her back away. Many scramble back while others merely linger in morbid, curious trepidation, but all these gestures achieve the same end. Because ultimately, the girl withdraws a sharpened quill. And with that quill, she would strike a hole -- a gash within a sort of cocoon that that growing vortex had represented. She would then step inside as the visual begins to shift again.

    A disembodied voice soon revealed to belong to an odd, crippled, drawn-on presence barely distinct from the whirling background of the memory would address Homura and Arthur. "The Godchild is correct," It would echo, "at least insofar as I have no will to leave this place. The only way I could ever truly leave would be if Mizuki were to remember all of what she once knew, exactly as she had once learned it. Otherwise, if the 'other' one were to return to this plain, I would likely merge with her. Either way, though, 'my' individual presence has no value or consequence. I am a symbol for something larger, and perhaps it would have been more appropriate for me to express myself as 'We'. To better reflect all the gathered thoughts and memories which I embody."
Faruja The scene definitely doesn't make the rat happy. Faruja grips his cane far too hard as he watches possibly-former-Mizuki violate all sorts of time-magic laws with her arcane machinery. Then he rubs his face in irritation, leaning back and watching the memory.

"I tremble to think what happened. Couldst she hath created this world through some misguided attempt at Time Magic? /This/ is why we outlaw attempts at meddling. I swear, I love all of ye, but canst ye lot at least /try/ to not be a pack of nigh-Heretics for once?" Mutters the rat. But despite himself, he leans in. Academic and religious interest abounds as the Burmecian falls silent to watch what will befall the poor meddling schoolgirl.
Staren     A library. That's no surprise, really -- Staren briefly wonders what university, specifically, this might be, then dismisses it as too far-removed to matter now, like the warring factions of Dr. Burden's home.

    His eyes widen a bit when she reveals that she built a /machine/. He approaches, "Well, well! What's this..." he moves to inspect it, assuming the vision won't hurt him.

    She opens a /cockpit/. This is a small mecha?

    ...No. It's a /time machine/! Staren gasps at the realization, and watches the memory continue to unfold.

    "What did you do, Mizuki..." he wonders. He's beginning to suspect that it isn't a 'time machine' in the most obvious sense. Since it seems to be going both ways at once... perhaps it is /editing/ time, somehow, rather than travelling inside it?
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako blinks her eyes as she quietly watches. While time magic isn't her specialty, she does know this doesn't look like something someone should be doing. Why? Mostly because you don't really need anything but good old fashioned common sense to know that something very... chaotic is about to happen. Besides. When you've been a maid as long as Ayako has, you get to know when a mess is about to occur.
Mizuki     The light does not cease to expand.

    It would be safe enough to say it continues to do so until it has usurped the presence of the entirety of that library office, and the whole of the school it belonged to, and perhaps even the city all that had resided in. The scene fades as the group bears witness to an entire world that loses its color in the same way each individual region of Mizuki's world had as the numbers were retrieved. People become outlines which crumble to dust and swirl together within that growing, conceptual sun. Any world which is touched by that growing expanse vanishes into nothingness. In the end, the destruction is total; the scene erases all traces of the previous scene before the machinations of the memory can do so themselves.

    Meanwhile, within the corridor of distortion that she has wrought, the New Girl would be found standing in the midst of an infinitely wide, prismatic nothingness. Her form, like those before her, has begun to twist and distort. Her features have been lost. Her eyes and mouth have abandoned a blank canvas of a face which only barely clings to two legs flailing in a tempest of the world's natural law. It would be a great relief to her, then, that the strokes of the very pen she had entered with begin to revoke this process. With each flick of the wrist, she writes words upon the sky.

    First, she writes that she 'exists at a basic, conceptual level'. She defines herself fully as the concept of herself, and establishes that concept itself as an integral law in the makeup of the world. This bizarre space, clearly every bit as impressionable as Mizuki's modern world, responds obediently; flecks of light would splash themselves across her cheeks until her every aspect has recombined at the epicenter of her soul. She reconstitutes herself. The world outside this bubble must certainly be falling apart more and more as the seconds tick by -- undoubtedly the entire planet which she had called home is now gone.

    But still, she forges on. More strokes of the pen would define the landscape. Golden shoots of rye would spring from the shimmering ground. An azure blue would decorate the skies as far as the eyes have space to see... and for her, perhaps, beyond. A tiny, hollowed-out shack wrought from apparently aged boards would find itself somewhere Northeast of her, and there a new world will have been born in the space of seconds. The girl would lower her pen for a moment, take a deep breath, and shut her eyes in triumph.

    The visual would steady for a moment. Everything would cease its constant trembling. The girl would turn to look behind herself... a fix her eyes on Staren. Then Faruja. Then Kimiko. Then Arthur. Each and every one of them would have their eyes specifically, meaningfully met by the girl. Can she -see- them? Given the gesture it's hard to believe otherwise, but that does exceedingly little to change her next act. She would retreat gradually, almost sleepily to that little shack she had created and lay down upon the boards there.

    Only then would the visual begin to swirl again. For now, the fates of all those people, cities, and planets that had been swallowed by the vortex remain mercilessly uncertain.
Staren     Staren shakes his head as the world is swallowed up. "Why..."

    An answer comes to mind. The world is full of suffering and problems. If you could create anything, surely you could create something better?

    Well, he can only speculate for now. And then Mizuki? /looks/ at him. "Can she see us?" He holds a hand to his head. "Ugh, time travel..." He starts floating after her towards the shack. "What world will you make, Mizuki..."
Homura Akemi     Arthur replies-- and the Guide, eventually, confirms. Homura might have some unvoiced disagreement, but won't make a deal of it. If the Guide doesn't want out, then there's no purpose in pushing. She'll settle on just observing and watching instead, as someone decides to mess with time and space. Ever a bundle of happiness, that, although they haven't seen the result yet.

    And when they do, moments later, it is a fate of destruction-- or SEEMINGLY a fate of destruction, at any rate, as everything but the person who initiated the process is... recycled? Rewritten? Maybe it is just destruction, too. It's hard to say.

    "It does seem like she sees us, yes," Homura muses, although she's not quite as concerned about that than she probably should be. This is a memory book, after all; the memories can easily be told in a way to include the viewers without it having been what actually happened.

    ... probably.
Arthur Lowell     Arthur's whistful look turns a bit morbid, and then a bit sorrowful. He remembers destroying his world to make a universe. But... He didn't want to. And not only that, it was natural, the way things were intended. It was supposed to be that way. Not... Apparently intentional. It's stressing him out to see someone INTENTIONALLY do this. For some reason, as he examines the effects of it and recalls his first excursions into the void Fiora had made for him.

    "God dam it." He says, somberly. Then he looks dead on at the First Mizuki. It's an... Almost aggressive look. He knows what this is about, and how unacceptable it is. But it's all in the past. He can't be angry at Mizuki as she is now. He does feel an intense, palpable frustration, though. "Can't believe this. She... God damn it. But why? Why break an entire world to do this? I don't..." He rubs his temples. "I don't understand..." He knows what she did. He just really wishes he could know why.
Kimiko Shinobu     "Maybe." That answer is as much as Kimiko is going to venture. This is a place where 'memories' can have an illusion of will. It's not unthinkable, but neither is it certain. It doesn't yet seem as if it matters, either way.

    She doesn't say anything about the world's apparent destruction. She is as expressive as earlier, and as she has been throughout.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako quietly watches the utter destruction and chaos that the girl causes. There is a hint of... recognition in Ayako's eyes. A reflection of something that has happened before. But it only lasts a moment before it returns to the girl. "That must have been utterly nerve wracking and terrifying..." And then the world around stabilizes... as the girl writes. "Did... did you want a world where you could control everything? But... something like that... it might not be what you actually really want." She returns the other girl's gaze once the world around appears to stabilize.

    "But perhaps experience is the best teacher for that..."
Riva Banari Riva watches the proceedings, trying to understand, trying to take in the nuance and the meaning behind this. That's the point, after all, isn't it?

But the annihilation of the world creates a growing horror which makes itself apparent on Riva's face, as she backs away instinctively from the growing conceptual sun. But where could someone go in this? It is all that Riva can do to not stumble into the chaos outside.

Which is as well and good, as now she can see what comes next. She watches the transformation that the girl undergoes, the claiming of Self and the basic definitions of the world.

The most important part of the past, perhaps. The beginning. As the girl looks back at the others, Riva stares back at her, expression blank, now, as she copes with everything she has seen.

She's still quiet, for now.
Mizuki     The world would fast-forward at once to a point where that fresh, golden rye has dyed itself instead a vibrant green. A side-walk has lain itself in front of the group, stretching ever onward toward the horizon where the shack once was. In its place now is a very familiar visual: the Clock Tower. There are some differences between it and the modern one, of course -- the numbers are all there, there's no stained glass, and the clock's hands seem to move in such a way that it can actually be used to tell time. Otherwise, though, it seems very much the same.

    For those particularly attached to this world, things might almost appear nostalgic. Leviathan -- or at the least, some reasonable substitute -- still lies safe in the West. To the East, a town with an immense ferris wheel that turns about continually can be seen, its neon lights proudly beaming toward the sky even in the stark light of day. These locales are clearly not identical to those seen previously, but there's enough similarity to them that it might feel familiar... and eerie. If this truly is the 'first' Mizuki, why would things be so much the same? One would think that they should be vastly different from one another, given the ostensibly massive number of years between 'Now' and 'Then'.

    At this point, though, the recollection would begin to flicker. Motes of light would begin to rise from the Earth, and an odd sort of static would linger on the extremes of what each person is able to see. Eventually, though, that static would grow quite close. Its obscurity would choke the atmosphere. At once, the world would begin to fall apart one, last time.

    As it does, though, a vaguely familiar pastel shape would look on at them, its hands folded at its waist. It would seem the 'old' Mizuki is still here now, watching them. Her face is impossible to fathom the shape of, but it's almost certain that she's smiling that same, coy grin. The true horror of all this would manifest in proof of how little things have changed. Untold numbers of years have passed, and yet this world - and the one who had created it - are so very much the same.

    The disfigured outline of the 'Guide' would begin to extrapolate itself about this sphere of static that has formed around them. Her repeated images would compromise their view of the sky, and eventually they might find themselves to be standing on top of her as well. They would tessellate and weave in the form of some insane pattern, only for her to speak once more in her same monotone:

    "This the extent of what I am allowed to share with you," Hundreds of voices would say at once, "but I believe I owe you something. Take it in faith. All you need to give me in recompense is your promise that you will remember all that you have seen here. Life is substantiated through memory. Thus, your trade to me is my own longevity." All the forms would congeal at a central point along the Eastern wall of the sphere, leaving the entire area a pure, blank white. The ultimate form this Union would take is that of the penultimate number: Six.

    As something of a bonus, what little remains of the Guide's consciousness would rasp in some garbled, primal din, "Never... has Mizuki come so close to success before. This outcome... is unique in hundreds of thousands of attempts. Some congratulations, therefore, are necessary."

    The number would fall silent after this, and as they allow themselves to do so, the visitors would wake. Back in the library, Fenestra has lain Mizuki's unconscious form against a bookshelf. She would turn to the group and smile pleasantly to them as they reappear, waving her hand in greeting.

    One of them might note that she looks eerily familiar in that position, somehow.
Kimiko Shinobu     Kimiko is given a request, even if not one to which a reply seems expected. Perhaps there is no choice in the matter. Nevertheless, she nods. "I will remember." That's all, and only because it was asked of her.

    Her eyes close for a few moments on their return. With the passing of the visions, there's a chance to rest, which she takes standing, and letting things sort into place. When she opens her eyes, she looks toward Mizuki, quietly sighs, and turns to go.
Staren     Staren is not surprised at the lack of change. Mizuki doesn't actually remember, and her thoughts are likely to repeat the same paths.

    The Guide reappears. Staren nods, regarding his longevity. He intends to live forever, after all.

    "Success? What... what went wrong all the other times, then? Why did things repeat?" he asks... but, perhaps there is no one to answer, now.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako watches quietly... and takes in the 'first' Mizuki's world. She thinks to herself for a moment... and then nods her head slowly. She blinks her eyes slowly as the world begins to fall apart... and then so many of the Guide appears amidst the static.

    "Of course I'll remember. It would be kind of rude to forget." Ayako smiles softly. Her head inclines to the side gently. "Hmm... 'success', huh?"

    Once they are back in the library, Ayako returns Fenestra's wave and walks over to Mizuki quickly. "Ah. Mizuki..." She glances back at Fenestra. "Is she okay?"
Mizuki     Fenestra would happily nod to Ayako and flash her a thumbs-up. That seems like a yes! She's probably very, very tired though.

    Come to think of it, hadn't she said something about never sleeping when she had just come into the Multiverse? Maybe she's becoming more human over time, somehow.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako sighs in relief at Fenestra's thumbs-up. "Ahh... whew." She then looks down at Mizuki and... then blinks her eyes quickly. Wait. Isn't Mizuki like herself in that she doesn't sleep? That's... that's odd. "I... is she sleeping?"
Faruja Faruja is remarkably silent as the enormity of what Mizuki did, and then how she wrought the world after. By the end of it all, the Inquisitor just feels /tired/. As the Guide rematerializes, he rubs his face, and then simply tries to burn it all into his head, baring witness to his best friend's greatest sin.

"God forgive those whom mere mortals canst not." He mutters, crossing his chest solemnly. He can't fathom such things, even with more than his fair share of blood on his own hands.

And he doesn't even know the motivations.

He tucks the thought away before addressing the Guide. "Faram as my witness, I shall remember all that hath befallen here my Lady."

And then they're back, and Mizuki seems safe. He'll of course try to snatch the number before they flit out.

Then he's summoning up a pillow and comfy looking couch in the room.

"Heave-ho, let us get the poor bloody girl comfortable. Having us tear into her memories to /that/ degree is likely enough to put anyone quite out. Lady Fenestra, methinks I shall be staying the night if 'tis alright. The girl will need tea likely when she awakes." The tone in his voice practically screams insistance as he looks to one of Mizuki's handmaidens.
Riva Banari The more things change, the more they remain the same.

Riva looks upon the manifestation of Mizuki's World with anticipation. She knew this was going to be the shape of things. Everything pointed to this, and she understood what was going to happen. She turns, and the First Mizuki stands there, still lacking in her entirety of form, but possessing of that essential nature that she finds so familiar by now.

And as the world of the past begins to break down under the weight of its own presence, Riva looks over at the multitude of Guides, then down, hunching there, and reaching out to touch one of those images before they can fade out one more time. The Guide has proven that the past is fleeting, after all... And she nods. No words are necessary here.

They are ejected from the book then, and Riva looks around at the others. Staren asks his question, and finally, Riva speaks. "Because she isn't growing." Riva replies, simply enough.

Riva looks over Riva and Fenestra, watching the librarian ghost with a smile, and then walks over to stand over the unconscious Mizuki... And there is a sudden sigh, Riva slumping a bit. "Oh, Mizuki..." She says, collapsing and giving that conceptual being a hug as she lies there. After a few moments, she stands and helps pick up Mizuki. Or does it herself if she has to. "Let's just get her back to her own couch, Faruja." Riva says. "People always rest in their own beds the best."
Staren     "Not growing..." Staren echoes, staring off into space. "But can you grow for that long, without becoming... something entirely different?" Staren wonders. "I suppose we'll find out..."
Mizuki     For Ayako, Fenestra would quickly scribble a few words on a notepad. When she holds up the paper in question to the water spirit, it would read,

    "Something like that!"

    Always so clear.
Faruja Faruja smiles a bit finally, and casts a float spell on Mizuki. She'll soon be levitating a few inches off the floor, no doubt helping Riva's work in getting her to her couch.

"Right! Couch, tea, chocobo noodle soup, and friends. Inquisitor's orders! Forward Templar Banari!"
Riva Banari "You're the transhumanist, Staren. How long do YOU think you can hang onto a human perspective after a few hundred thousand years?" Riva is only slightly snarky.

Float helps! Though Riva's pretty sure she could lift Mizuki without much trouble. "At once, Inquisitor!" Riva calls out slightly jokingly, and she bows to Fenestra before beginning to take Mizuki back to her own Couch Of Awesome.

Because seriously, sleeping like that would have given her /such/ a backache.
Ayako Hasekawa     Ayako leans forward and then reads the notepad. "A-ah ahh... Whew... I was a bit worried for a moment." Of course goes along with them! She would help carry Mizuki, but it seems Riva and Faruja have that covered.

    "Well... I will say this much. It took me far, far, faaaar more than a thousand years to just gain a slightly human-like perspective." Ayako then giggles nervously. "Although... my case is kind of in reverse..."
Staren     "I really don't know." Staren replies. "Like I said, I suppose we'll find out." He turns to look at Riva. "Not just me and you, really... Everyone. If you think about it, it's not like it stops being an issue just because you're in an afterlife." He shrugs, then turns towards the others.

    "...I wonder if she dreams like us..."