▶ THE BALLAD OF SWEENEY TODD Swing your razor highIt had started, really, as a building fog rolling in across the streets of Yongen-Jaya. It clung to the ground, low enough to obscure the feet but nothing else, a low trill of strings from some unobserved orchestra.
It was easily excused as nearby shops observing the festive occasion- save for whispers amongst the nearby cognitions, verging on... song?
Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd, they hissed. His face was pale and his eye was odd
A low, distant rumble of thunder. Woodwinds soon joined the string, playing an ominous harmony, one that promised a tale of vengeance and death. He shaved the faces of gentlemen Who never thereafter were heard of again He trod a path that few have trod Did Sweeney Todd
The demon barber of Fleet Street... A figure rounded the corner of the alley by the theater, an Akechi- but his face high and pale, with deep shadows around the eyes. His dress antiquated, almost Victorian- and his hair black with a white streak. And the moment he appeared, lightning flashed overhead, the unseen orchestra screaming into full ensemble, the brass section awakening to play the overture.
The effect was somewhat ruined when he took a step intended to accommodate legs much longer than they were, at present, and nearly fell over. The passersby dispersed, the moment passed, and the unknown newcomer righted himself with a curse, glaring into the open doorway. "Igor. What the fuck."
▶ THE BARBER AND HIS WIFE Locked to Falcon and FutabaThe door to the Sakura residence swung open, to reveal two familiar faces, walking across the threshold. The first was Renée, missing her glasses but clad in a shoulderless blue prom dress, a corsage on her left wrist and looking highly amused. The second was... just an Akechi. Looking grumpier than usual and dressed like a Victorian barber. For some reason.
Phoenix sighed, and called out. "Hello?"
▶ NO PLACE LIKE TOKYO And the vermin of the world inhabit itIn spite of initial annoyance, life went on. Phoenix and Renée both could be found in their usual haunts, with him making frequent visits to friends- or inviting them over to catch up, if they'd been so inclined, or taking time to study in the pleasant atmosphere that was Leblanc, and she found often around the myriad bars and bookshops of Tokyo, when she wasn't at home- though on occasion, Renée did make one of her appearances completely drenched in what was... probably fake blood. In any case, either of them seemed to be in relatively high spirits, throughout the week leading up to Halloween.
Alright, you sir, how about a shave? Come and visit.
Phoenix and Renée
Swing your razor high
It had started, really, as a building fog rolling in across the streets of Yongen-Jaya. It clung to the ground, low enough to obscure the feet but nothing else, a low trill of strings from some unobserved orchestra.
It was easily excused as nearby shops observing the festive occasion- save for whispers amongst the nearby cognitions, verging on... song?
Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd, they hissed.
His face was pale and his eye was odd
A low, distant rumble of thunder. Woodwinds soon joined the string, playing an ominous harmony, one that promised a tale of vengeance and death.
He shaved the faces of gentlemen
Who never thereafter were heard of again
He trod a path that few have trod
Did Sweeney Todd
The demon barber of Fleet Street...
A figure rounded the corner of the alley by the theater, an Akechi- but his face high and pale, with deep shadows around the eyes. His dress antiquated, almost Victorian- and his hair black with a white streak. And the moment he appeared, lightning flashed overhead, the unseen orchestra screaming into full ensemble, the brass section awakening to play the overture.
The effect was somewhat ruined when he took a step intended to accommodate legs much longer than they were, at present, and nearly fell over. The passersby dispersed, the moment passed, and the unknown newcomer righted himself with a curse, glaring into the open doorway. "Igor. What the fuck."
▶ THE BARBER AND HIS WIFE
Locked to Falcon and Futaba
The door to the Sakura residence swung open, to reveal two familiar faces, walking across the threshold. The first was Renée, missing her glasses but clad in a shoulderless blue prom dress, a corsage on her left wrist and looking highly amused. The second was... just an Akechi. Looking grumpier than usual and dressed like a Victorian barber. For some reason.
Phoenix sighed, and called out. "Hello?"
▶ NO PLACE LIKE TOKYO
And the vermin of the world inhabit it
In spite of initial annoyance, life went on. Phoenix and Renée both could be found in their usual haunts, with him making frequent visits to friends- or inviting them over to catch up, if they'd been so inclined, or taking time to study in the pleasant atmosphere that was Leblanc, and she found often around the myriad bars and bookshops of Tokyo, when she wasn't at home- though on occasion, Renée did make one of her appearances completely drenched in what was... probably fake blood. In any case, either of them seemed to be in relatively high spirits, throughout the week leading up to Halloween.
Alright, you sir, how about a shave?
Come and visit.