2020-01-04 - The Rise of Creamy Juan

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The Rise of Creamy Juan

Summary: As Liyara finishes her city-wide bout of magic circle-making, Jack discovers a truly devilish ice cream delight.

Who: Liyara, Jack_Hawksmoor, Emi, Fazbear and Friends
When: January 04, 2020
Where: Truce Fountain Courtyard.

Emi-icon.gifFazbear and Friends-icon.gifJack Hawksmoor-icon.gifLiyara-icon.gif

The information contained within this log is to be considered information gained Out of Character (OOC).
This information may not be used as In Character (IC) knowledge or in roleplay unless it has been learned in-game or permission has been granted by the parties involved.

Questions should be directed to staff.

There are many levels of exhaustion; some can be detected by nothing more than listening to someone speak, while others would require more thorough observation. The type of exhaustion that Liyara is experiencing at the moment is more the of the latter. It's as though her saturation is down several levels, and while the woman usually makes the effort to walk places, today she's simply gliding along the ground. It doesn't LOOK lazy, but it most certainly IS lazy.

The redhead has spent quite some time experimenting with her newest magic circle formula. She's been creating long-term observational sensors linked up to several spots in Mabase, not to spy on the city itself, but on the varying dimensions connected to it. She's been busy.

With noone really able to offer her any way of speeding up her already dramatically-hastened magic circle process, the dragon woman has been taking a couple of days between each circle, which themselves each take basically an entire day. Most people wouldn't be willing to put in the time and effort to spend an entire day creating basically a magical camera. But then, most people don't have the patience of dragons.

"...Alright... this should be the last one." The woman strides towards the fountain, looking around to make sure she's not going to be disturbing too many people. After all, while she's going to do what she has to one way or the other, it'd be best to do it when noone got upset. Or hurt, she supposes. That matters, on some distant, difficult-to-measure scale. But it does matter.

Once she's somewhat sure the coast is clear, Liyara will set up and get to work, crouching down by the fountain and beginning her circle. It's not a huge affair, but for a magical circle, it's bigger than most. And substantially more intricate, of course, than human scrawlings. This could take a while. She pulls out one of a small collection of books she got from the library, and begins reading to herself. One of the benefits of having a near-perfect memory and exceptionally compartmentalized mind is that Liyara can multi-task very well. Especially when this is her ninth such circle this month.

As always, the circle is seared into the very top layer of the ground. It will be cleared away not too long after she's done; vandalism is not her gig. Once the spell is complete, there'd be no use for the circle, after all. Plus, who leaves evidence? Amateurs. That's who.

The sound that comes from behind Liyara is quite recognizable. It's the sound of a male human being clearing his throat. "Ahem." Not being magical, Jack wouldn't show up to her senses as anything but a man. Or possibly not even that, given his distinct lack of a heartbeat. Or, possibly, he wasn't even there until a moment ago. He's there now, though, leaning against the wall, watching her.

Of course, Liyara isn't known for dropping her magic as soon as someone comes knocking, and Jack Hawksmoor is no exception. The dragoness doesn't even look up from her books, let alone slow in her circle-making. Which is not to say that she's trying to be rude - far from it. She's simply focusing on her priorities properly. "Hmm? May I help you?" Apparently conversation doesn't distract from either pre-occupation.

For the purposes of a visual, the woman's finger appears to be scorching red and orange runes and inlays into the slightest layer of ground, just enough for a visual representation, but a stark and vividly magic one. Just because it will be easily cleared away doesn't mean it's not fancy and pretty. It even has a faint glow for a few moments after her finger passes each stroke, but that fades, because, well, magic may be being used to make it, but the circle itself isn't magic. Not technically, anyway.

In Liyara's defense, noone's been stopping her up until now; why should she think today will be any different? Especially when she hasn't turned to see who's behind her. She really should probably do that at some point.

"I mean, that's a very pretty circle, but I'd really like to know *exactly* what you're up to. You're making Mabase nervous." That should tell her exactly who is standing behind her...the guy who insists he's in no way magical, but who might well be...something else.

"It's merely a magical circle, albeit a complicated one. It'll vanish once I'm done; it always does." The redhead responds immediately, entirely without thinking. Then she blinks, pauses, and turns to look behind her. "... Oh, it's you. Hello, Jack." Apparently he warrants pausing her work after all. If only he knew how unusual that is. "I didn't notice you there." She glances down at her magic circle, and then back to Jack, furrowing her brow. "I'm making Mabase nervous? Cities can get nervous?"

Noone's actually told her what Jack is or does. She's just had to infer from the handful of interactions she's had with him. So, the redhead just smiles, waiting for a moment. Since she's stopped, might as well take the time to get any inteference out of the way all at once.

"Well, it needn't be. I'm not doing anything that'll have any lasting effect." For what it's worth, she's made eight others without breaking anything. Sure, there was some localized quaking for around six to ten seconds. But nothing fell down or cracked or was damaged. Nothing she knows about, anyway.

"Just spying on the neighbors, to borrow your delightful human phrase."

"They can when you keep casting the same spell over and over again," Jack says, a bit of a wry note entering into his voice. "Then you won't mind if I stick around. Last time anyone cast magic here the fountain was a luck magnet for, oh, four or five *days*."

"Hrm." Liyara actually takes a moment at that, and puts her book down to look Jack square in the eyes. "...Now that's an interesting thing to say." She looks him up and down again for a moment, and then crosses her arms, leaving the one holding the book over the other. "Are you saying the city told you about my other castings?" She is intrigued by this, to be certain. "The implications of a sapient city are... hmm." Her eyes glass over for a moment, and then she's back, as if she was trying to drudge up some memory. It didn't take long.

"...Complicated. The implications are complicated." She turns back to her spell circle, and crouches down. Before continuing, she asks of the man. "...Does it hurt?" Oh good, she does have empathy.

"All cities are sapient," Jack says simply. "Not in the way you are, not in the way I am, but they have memories and resonances and little bits of all the people who live in them, shed like the stray cells of your skin, filling the pool. And...your circles don't hurt, but they are confusing and not knowing much about magic I was worried about some grand master plan that *might*."

"Ah." Liyara begins tracing the circle again once Jack has confirmed the circles don't seem to hurt Mabase. That she waited at all is a greater sign of care than it probably seems; after all she just went right back to it. "Well, then you're one of the few competent officers I've ever had the pleasure of engaging with." Her hands don't seem to be moving that much quicker than a normal person might be able to move them, but each finger is working precise etchings that don't even seem to connect at first, only meeting up on a second or third pass over the area.

"I could very well have been working something truly monstrous, like, oh... what do your books say magic users do?" She looks thoughtful, but doesn't slow down. "A human sacrifice spell or somesuch." Yes, that would be monstrous. Good call.

"But alas, I'm only taking a recording of the dimensions directly adjoining this one, more specifically the ones most strongly connected here." Liyara takes a deep breath, and then pulls her book back up to continue reading. "...It's long, boring, and entirely uneventful even when the spell completes. But you're welcome to stay and watch." Her lips twitch slightly, almost but-not-quite smirking. It's a good thing she's NOT doing anything bad; he'd have no way of knowing. Idly, the dragoness wonders if the police force hires outside consultants.

"I was more concerned about the creation, deliberate or otherwise, of a dimensional instability." He's probably got a point there. And no, he doesn't know magic...but he does know, and can feel, those instabilities. Whether he'd have time to do anything is another matter.

"I shouldn't think you have too much to worry about. This circle will just be like all the others." The woman doesn't slow, and even though she is making a lot of progress, it doesn't look like she's going to be done any time soon. Each intricate set of etchings blends into the next, and if it IS like her previous magic circles on this scale, it will take her... well. A day. "...And I don't believe it creates any instabilities, though admittedly, I don't have truesight."

Most people would be somewhat averse to repeating themselves, to specifically dispelling concerns and misunderstandings about their powerset to someone different every day of the week. But not Liyara. In fact, Liyara seems to rather enjoy talking about herself. Consistently. Hmm.

"In fact, I can only 'hard-cast' fire spells at all. Which are very useful for protecting my school, discouraging attackers, and..." Don't say destroying the evidence. "...baking a lovely crumblecake." Good save. "...But for anything not specifically incendiary? Circles like this are my only option. Slow and tedious. Fueled with my blood of course." Of course. That makes sense. Why is it fueled with her blood?

Jack Hawksmoor nods. "I've heard things about blood and magic," Jack says, listening. "And so far they haven't, but..." The city would know. HE would know.

"Yes, well, dragon blood, you understand, is especially magically potent." Jack had just got through saying he doesn't understand earlier. Why would Liyara insist he understands? "What with the inherent magic within. None of that 'drawing from the weave' nonsense that humans do." She pauses, glancing back over her shoulder at Jack. "...No offense." Right. He's human. Ish.

"...So it acts as an excellent fuel. If I know the PRECISE workings of the spell, I can imitate it as a ritual." ...Actually, even not knowing much about magic, that's a pretty clear explanation for what she's doing. "...Make sense?" Well, she is a teacher. Maybe she isn't entirely terrible at her job.

"...And in this case, the spell is simply an interdimensional scrying sensor. It's created in the dimension next door, and I can view what it's seen here in this one." So she literally meant it when she said she was spying on the neighbors. Ok.

Jack Hawksmoor nods. "Which might allow you to map nearby dimensions and possibly...I can see the use." And he shrugs. "No offense taken, although I wouldn't recommend trying to use MY blood in magic." It being not entirely organic and all.

That actually draws a small laugh from Liyara, and she pauses to make sure the tremor doesn't muss with her circle. It doesn't, if anyone is curious. "Oh, I wouldn't. Humans usually draw their magic from the environment around them; in Faerun we call it 'The Weave'. Their blood isn't... Well, it's not potent enough for this." Right, but their blood isn't literally made of magic fire, so that's fair.

"For the record, I'm not sure what I will use this for; portals are particularly finicky here. I created one once, and it led to the wrong time, the wrong space, possibly the wrong universe, and it closed without asking." That doesn't sound very useful. "...In the interest of full disclosure." Sure.

"I have to ask you NOT to create any portals. The last time anyone did too much messing around with portals it twisted the city up so much that all the maps had to be redone," Jack says, simply. "Not a reflection on your magical skill, just this place isn't that...well...stable." He's leaning against a wall near the fountain, conversing with Liyara, who's drawing magic circles.

Nothing really changes as Emi Goodman makes her way into perceptive range, she's just a perfectly normal girl pushing a rickety food cart covered in white and glowing green splatters. The side bears the unfortunate legend, 'Creamy Juan's Special Ice Cream Sandwiches'. A little umbrella is attached to the cart, as is law across all known dimensions.

The girl is clothed in practical attire for her role, a gaudy apron slung over a light, white smock and cheap dress pants. On her feet she wears a pair of thoroughly sensible, well-worn flats. Despite her predicament, for the most part she maintains a warm, customer-facing smile that smoulders with genuine passion for her work. There's an intellectual fire in her peculiarly-amber eyes, however. To those with the wherewithal to notice, she has the promise of a firecracker.

As she pushes her cart up beside the fountain, she puffs her cheeks out with a gentle 'whew' and leans upon it, flipping open the reflective trays bearing her product. "Ice cream sandwiches!" She calls clearly, and with happy fatigue, "For a limited time, get your Intergalactic Space Goop Special; even we don't know what it is! Remember, it's not a good day until you've had a.. Creamy Juan."

The pause is honestly imperceptible to most, but a natural smartass will spot the faint wrinkling of her nose, the ghost of a cringe, as she finishes.

She's not exactly... mobbed by customers.

With a slow nod, Liyara acknowledges Jack's request. "I'm not certain it would be wise either. I've been considering some other options for helping the refugees here..." Isn't she one of them? "...But knowledge is the best way to proceed. And I'm afraid you can see getting direct knowledge is painfully slow." Especially for someone with purportedly faster-than-human cognition. But she's tolerating well. Isn't she a trooper?

The redhead is about continue with her circle, when she notices a young ice cream vendor pull up. It's probably nothing important, but when she hears the sales pitch, she furrows her brow a bit. She pauses, then glances to Jack. She's not exactly up on her local slang and vernacular, but... "...Detective Hawksmoor." Yes, that is his last name. "...Is it just me, or is that very..." Disconcerting? Poorly phrased? Flat-out awful naming? "...unappealing?"

It's not just you, Liyara. It's not just you.

Jack Hawksmoor turns towards the ice cream cart. His eyes show a momentary flicker of red. "I'm afraid, appealing or unappealing doesn't really register with me." Given he can't eat it anyway, who cares what it's called? His lips quirk in faint amusement. He's assuming, though, that the unfortunate woman with the cart is merely hired help, not the one who came up with that, well, name.

Emi seems relaxed about her failed pitch, if anything it seems to further raise her spirits, as she relaxes her shoulders and checks her novelty wristwatch. For the curious, it's a knockoff Pokemon watch bearing the outline of an off-model Psyduck. Bitch likes ducks.

Having done so, the little food service operative (FSO) immediately, but very calmly and methodically, begins to pack away her stand, keeping a diligent eye out for any resilient heroes who might still be considering an approach. A small child across the streets hides in his mother's skirt.

Once she's done, Emi doffs her apron, leaving it slung over the cart's over-long handles, and retrieves a vibrating cheap white flip-phone from her pants pocket, leaning up against the wall a short way from the meeting of magical minds. "Hello Chaz," she greets, relaxed and happy, "How's my favorite jerk?"

She pauses, and frowns, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

"What do you mean, who is it? You... you called me! It's Emi. Emi Goodman. Your surrogate mother?"

Right, well. Inadvisable and unappetizing as the ice cream may sound, Liyara is pretty sure that the sale of the ice cream isn't going to be causing her too much difficulty with her circle, so she gets back to it. "...I'm simply suggesting it is a godsawful sobriquet." Which it is.

As the woman continues tracing her circle, she tries pointedly not to acknowledge the poor girl with her dysfunctional phone call - or is it the person on the other end that's dysfunctional? Regardless her magic circle's starting to make progress; it actually looks like maybe, just maybe, it might one day become a geometric symbol that most people would call round. Maybe. Really, the way she's drawing it makes it hard to figure out what the end-stage will be. Twenty hours. To make. A circle. It's going to be a long day.

"...So. You just. Talk to cities?" Look at Liyara, showing interest in someone other than herself. This city is a bad influence on her.

"By a rather loose definition of the word talk, but..." Abruptly, he seems quite interested in the young woman by the ice cream cart, although he doesn't approach her while she's on the phone. Jack's not always good at the social graces, but...

"What do you mean you can't find it? I left it on the table. I did!"

Emi is growing a little exasperated with her conversation, which honestly sounds pretty banal and silly. Stuff for young humans to fuss about, and literally nobody else. Pushing off from the wall with a dainty flick of her free hand, she takes exaggerated, playful steps back out toward her cart, rolling her eyes once more at the boy on the other end.

"You want me to come all the way back there? I can skip my break, I suppose. It's okay. I've just got one more street to hit and I'll be done. Nobody wants these anyway, I don't know what it is Ipsum dug up but you probably shouldn't have sold it to--"

She pulls the phone away from her ear, and sets it down for a moment while she re-establishes her grip on the card, using a tiny hip to keep it in place while she retrieves her phone.

"I see your point," she offers diplomatically to the now-silence on the other side, "I'll be no more than an hour, okay? Please stop panicking. We're going to do this."

"About as loose as the definition of the word 'sapient' when it comes to talk of cities, I'd wager?" Liyara sounds amused, now. Well, they ARE talking about having a chat with a physical location and quibbling about definitions. This is probably right up her alley, given her vocation. "It still sounds quite interesting. Did you learn this ability, if you don't mind my asking? Can it be taught?" ... And right back to the headmaster.

Of course, if Jack is paying attention to Emi, there's not much Liyara is going to do about it without disrupting her circle. But in his defense, Emi's conversation is certainly unusual, and nigh infinitely more interesting than watching Liyara draw on the ground.

"It can't be taught," Jack says, a bit of a grim note, "But if you will excuse me...I'll be back." The promise is given readily before the citywalker detaches himself from the wall and starts wandering over to the ice cream seller. Maybe her conversation really IS that interesting.

Emi's conversation appears to be at an end, but the girl remains paused for some time to reposition her hip and the cart - which could probably crush her with relative ease - and juggle her phone back into her pocket. She seems ready to push for, then remembers she's not wearing her apron and drops everything to don it. The brief obfuscation of her view renders the approaching Jack a surprise, and the girl starts to altertness as she sees the strapping, bare-footed gentleman.

"Ahem," she begins, very quietly and rather adorably, flipping up one of the cart's panels, "Good afternoon! We've got two flavors today, classic vanilla and absinthe, or the Intergalactic Space Goop Special. Both are terrible and may give you cancer, or cirrhosis of the liver." She pauses, and then shuts the lid, leaning conspiratorially toward the man. "Honestly, I think I'm going to quit this job, please don't buy anything." Her eyes try not to flicker down as she adds, kindly, "You seem... fairly normal."

Apart from the whole magic circle, dragon lady thing. That's probably fine.

Surprising noone, Liyara continues working on her circle! Well, if she's committied to spending twenty hours on the thing, she can't go letting herself get distracted enough to stop every time someone has a weird conversation or wanders off. She's decided Jack's more interesting than previously thought, but not enough to abort her entire day. He's probably just doing law enforcement stuff, it's got nothing to do with her, and that's fine. In fact...

The redhead raises her book and continues reading while she draws her circle with the other hand. She seems occupied. What's she reading? 'A Brief History of Time'. It's only taking her roughly six seconds a page; but that's pretty slow for Liyara. Maybe she's actually reading it and processing it in real time, like a normal person. Astonishing.

"Not remotely," Jack says to Emi. "Normal, that is." He offers her a smile. "And no, I'm not here for ice cream. You're Emi Goodman?" And yes, he does offer a hand.

Quiet footsteps mark the approach of a pair in the direction of the Fountain Courtyard. Such a simple act could be a fairly common occurence for any of the general public to participate in, but the true measure of the city's fantastic nature becomes more apparent at the image so framed of the couple.

One of the figures stands way taller than the other: A seven foot-three, fuzzy, fully bipedal ursine wearing a dapper hat walks side-by-side with what looks to be a young girl the age of six or so. Furthermore, the two walk hand in hand; well, the girl's arm is extended high and her fingers wrap around a single large bear digit, but they stroll along together this way nonetheless.

The girl looks sad, though, and may have recently been crying. Her face is slightly damp and her cheeks are red. Her clothing is clean, though, so she's not some urchin off the street. It's a striking image, perhaps, that hints at something being not quite right. The bear seems to speak, but offers these words of consolation quietly with as reassuring a warm smile as can be given.

The hand is taken after a quick blink, Emi's grip furtive but just a shade stronger than her small, skinny frame would suggest. "Yes," she replies simply, bobbing her head and glancing over toward Jack's former conversational partner. "Normally I'd ask if you wanted an autograph," a frown slips across her brow, amber eyes darkening as she leans back on her heels and looks questioningly at the erstwhile-unthreatening Jack. "But please tell me you're not going to ask me anything about Hell, or demons, or strange thieving girls who can teleport. Nobody in the band actually worships Satan, those are just... lyrics. And I'm not a Queen, or an Empress, or anything like that."

Her gaze flickers briefly to the approaching ursine, and she holds up a finger, shooing Jack aside so they can clearly see the ice cream cart, and its awful legend, 'Creamy Juan's Special Ice Cream Sandwiches'. Never mind the glowing green stains, they're probably normal.

"Sorry," she says distractedly, "But if it's about any of that, would you mind leaving? Technically I'm working."

It's been a hot minute since Liyara resumed work on her magic circle. She's enjoying her book, and is a good ten pages further in already. She's engrossed enough to not notice the girl and bear right away. Which isn't saying much, knowing Liyara's reputation, but still.

It's really insightful to see how humans approach problems like time and space without magic to fall back on, and helpful to envision a universe without the phlogiston separating spheres. She's got a pretty good idea of how interstellar travel could be accomplished in such universes now, and is more than a little amused.

If she was to travel to those worlds, she might be the only being with magic. And so, Liyara is mentally inserting herself into these 'fictional' worlds as she reads about them. That's right - Liyara has discovered the amusement of self-insertion.

It's not recursive.


The shoulders drop a little. He's not that large a man, really, and he looks slightly smaller afterwards. "No, I didn't come to ask you about any of that." He politely steps aside from the sign. "Just to make sure you're okay." Something about his tone...he knows about some of it, perhaps all of it. He doesn't need to *ask*.

The display of any spectacle in the city doesn't necessarily catch the eye of Papa Bear. Existence is magical and fantastic and, well, besides...he and his band have seen a lot already. Just watch the reruns! As such, Liyara's work, even amidst her distraction, doesn't draw his attention away from the responsibility at hand. They stroll ever closer.

Now, a trained eye would definitely notice that the bear's gaze falls squarely on each face present and in turn. No pedestrian is safe. Still, despite this cautious observation, his focus is confined to the little one at his side. The girl, however, pulls her hand away from the bear's for a moment and begins to rub her eyes. Remnants of tears and sadness make them itchy, rubbing doesn't help, and this just makes her sniffle a bit.

Paused for the moment, the bear says, "Now, don't you worry. We're almost there. There's nothing to fear. Ol' Freddy will keep you safe." This reassurance doesn't fully work and so the ursine kneels to be a little more direct. His...face shows concern. A very fatherly concern. "I know what will help. We just need to find and push your happiness button." The bear beams a smile and the girl looks to Freddy's face just as the big fuzzy guy lifts a hand, one large finger extended, and gives it a wiggle. "And I~ happen to know where yours is." The girl is confused, but Freddy reaches over to give the girl's nose a boop. He even makes a 'mwerp!' sound to go along with it. "Ha ha ha, now you try!"

The girl hesitates, shocked out of feeling sobby, which is entirely the point. Emulating the bear, she reaches up to return the gesture. Her finger touches Freddy's nose -- and the most candy-coated cute little honk of a big bear nose ever heard startles a laugh out of her!

Emi's tone isn't unkind, per se, but there's clearly some real aggravation, a sense of harassment that's jarring in such an otherwise contented young woman. Jack's gesture is noted, though, and those startling eyes widen. She's not blind to the plight of others, and knows that caring can be the hardest thing of all. It's odd, having a complete stranger care about you. In her experience, that isn't how the world works. Be decent to everyone, is her manifesto, but expect nothing back. People aren't good, they're just doing their best.

"I'm... fine," she says cautiously, and then catches herself with a gentle sigh, a smile, and a shake of her head, "No, I'm not fine. But I will be. I've been here as long as I can remember, making my way quietly, and then there's danger I never asked for. It's new, and strange, that's all. Thank you for asking." Beat. "Are you okay?"

And a million more questions besides, but priorities.

Caught in sympathetic reverie as the confused FSO is, she starts briskly as the bear's nose positively explodes with joy. Emi grins sweetly at the girl's playful innocence.

Sometimes, people are alright.

Another page or two goes by, Liyara grinning in that way that a more modern woman might grin while reading a romance novel. Well, to each their own, or something.

The dragoness lowers her book for a moment with a smirk, and then notices a bear-construct with a child. Hmm. She's seen those constructs before. They seemed nice enough; very unlikely they'd do anything to hurt children. In fact, she's recently come to learn that constructs like that were created to entertain children in several universes. She has done much book learning while making these circles.

Liyara just smiles in the bear's direction at the sound of the honk and returns her attention to her book. If they need anything they'll come over. Priorities! Humans are no good at them, but Liyara is.

"Me? I'm fine." Jack cracks her another smile. "But I should get going." He then lowers his voice, "Watch out, there was a demon looking for you. I don't think she meant you harm, but..." Message and warning delivered, he starts to wander back towards the cop shop.

Mood crisis averted with quick Fazbear thinking, the big bear opens his arms wide slowly. "Now, how about a big Fazbearhug of Courage before we find your mommy." It's an innocent moment that can only be shared between a young child and a company mascot, certainly, but there has to be something heartwarming about seeing such large arms wrap cozily and ever so gently around the youngling that clings to that broad fuzzy bow tie-decorated chest. It's a hug that last as long as the girl seems to need, and, once enough, those arms part open like a blossoming flower to reveal the young girl now with a renewed heart.

Emi begins to nod slowly the instant Jack's intentions are clear, the young woman reading him just ahead of his own pronouncement. She's expecting him to walk away as abruptly as he approached, so the added warning blindsides her intuition. "I know," she says reflexively, defensively, eyes batting wide for a second. With Jack moving away, she asks, possibly under the yoke of total futility, "What's the but?"

If she doesn't get her reply, she'll shrug and start to turn her cart around once more, looking with wistful bliss at the heartwarming sight nearby. Yes, she should stop working as soon as possible and ensure no more delightful children consume any of her erstwhile master's vile concoctions. Do her bit for the day.

Over his shoulder, "Figured you should know." And then he's gone.

"Well. Thank you?" Is all Emi has time to meaningfully shoot back, raising her voice a touch, before she turns back toward her task.

Slowly, the bear rises to full height once more. If the bear promised to keep the girl safe until she can be reunited with family, he's certainly a good look for a bodyguard. A hand is held out, palm upward, in invitation and, as before, the girl takes hold of one of those fingers. A thick thumb ever so softly comes to rest atop that grasp. "Lucky for us, I know who we can tell about a missing mommy. Have you learned about Police? You better Fazbelieve that they're our friends. I bet it won't take them long at all to find where your mommy got lost."

Slow steps. Steady steps. The Precinct is right there.

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