Kawaguchi beamed.

The impersonation was very good. Technology was amazing. If those that believed the rumors weren't heretics without faith, it would almost lend credence to the theory that Kanamin's original voice actress couldn't do the voice anymore. Thankfully it was false, but she could see where malicious individuals could sway the uncertain with such technologies. And the ice-cream-themed switch was a good touch. This costume, certainly, had watched the show.

She clapped a little, and continued grinning.

"Well done!" The Japanese native said, resisting the urge to demonstrate her own impression. Without a similar voice changer it wouldn't be as impressive in this context. Maybe she'd work on that for next year, She was sure she could find a way to fit it into the neck portion of her costume. Just needed to be miniaturized, she had the look down already. "Wasn't that well done, Brennan? Wasn't it? The costume did a good job."

"Where do you think we should go first? The dealer room opens in ten minutes, doesn't it?" The second question was again directed at the costume, though it wasn't immediately apparent. There was no pause, so it took the look in his direction to clarify. "We'll have to make sure to hit that first or all the good stuff will be gone."

@Krayzikk@Plank Sinatra

KANACON

"The way I see it," began the cosplayer, adopting the wistful tone of Kanamin in her many self-reflective scenes in Integral. "if there's merchandise available and you have the power to acquire it ... there shouldn't be a doubt as to what you should do."

As much as his comrade appeared to enjoy quoting Magical Powered Kanamin, such childish activities were part of a realm that Gandharva was loathe to step into. His unfortunate presence at "Kanacon" had not arisen from any enjoyment of the franchise that Academy City's debauched denizens were celebrating in the Dianoid on this day, but rather due to a series of shameful situations that had lead him to a point where any attempts at escaping were too unlikely to succeed. It was utterly galling, as if the gods themselves were intent on manoeuvring him into such indignities. He had reluctantly subscribed to such a theory in recent days, and the customers he was forced to serve so professionally only confirmed the existence of this conspiracy against him.

"Two thousand seven hundred yen," said Gandharva politely and with as much dignity a man wearing Kanamin's face on a t-shirt could muster as he tapped away at the register. "Your Magi☆Mint Chip is here."

Elegantly, he held their distasteful purchase towards them.

@Crimmy@GreenGoat

Shinjiro Karasawa - In front of Harumi's Apartment Building

"Arright, let's see here."

With Hat-chan stuck in the conversation involving signatures or other such distracting yet ultimately necessary matters, her grapeoid compatriot wasn't keen on just standing around and waiting for her when he could at least proof-of-concept this shit. Idle hands were the devil's playthings, and all that God-fearing mumbo-jumbo. Sooner he could get his pal sorted the better.

This was mad simple anyway, the kind of stuff you learned to do within an hour of moving things in boxes past curbs, stairs, or other such lips.

"H'up ya go."

First, he replicated the tilt from earlier, albeit this time by pulling back upon the top of the package's opposite end and bracing the weight against his chest. So far, so good. Next, he shifted the strength of each hand, alternating the changes in balance upon the box's near edge so it sort of "shimmied" forward, progressing until he hit the curb itself.

A quick glance over the side confirmed that the far edge had cleared it. Onto phase three.

He replaced his far grip upon the opposite side with the ol' reliable push, and drove the package onto and past the curb—

SHHRK.

His plan.

His perfect plan had been marred by the unthinkable.

"Oh are you kiddin' me?!" he indignantly growled beneath his breath once his mind registered the unmistakable sound of separating adhesive and tearing cardboard. "Who th' fuck puts a seam on the goddamn bottom?! Fuck outta here!"

Calm down, man, not your fault they did a wack job of sealing the thing up, you don't need to be beastin' over it...

"Hat-chan," he called in a tight manner, trying very audibly to not sound as ticked off as he very visibly was. Staring a hole through the package didn't help that case. "Ya might wanna peep this."

Brennan Griese's nostrils had flared imperceptibly throughout Umeko's dialogues with the swollen-headed alien that was passing for a magical girl. Those who were too stupid to read the mood of a room or recognize animal instinct would have assumed that Brennan was jealous of the lavish attention that was being heaped on the deformed Kanamin. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Umeko's interest was almost certainly in acquiring a voice changer for herself in time for her next convention trip; any conversation she had with the soul trapped inside that wide-eyed plushie head was intended only to further that goal.

This was different. This wasn't angry at all - it was curious. Brennan Griese smelled someone familiar.

...

"Here, nerd, I got dis," Brennan said amiably, putting on a wide grin and pulling out his wallet. He flipped through the cash notes - the number of which was swollen up substantially from the money he'd withdrawn at the bank the other day - and produced exact change, holding it over to Gandharva without placing it in his hand. He was quietly waiting for the cashier to take it.

"Dere ya go, boyo. Cheers."