[right][img]https://i.imgur.com/XfzeLgs.png[/img][/right][hr][hr]
[right][b][color=black][indent][indent][indent]45[/indent][/indent][/indent]Movement overcomes cold,
Stillness overcomes heat.
Clear stillness is right for the world.[/color][/b][/right]

And She did well to bathe in the stillness, let herself embody it and, in turn, allow its objectivity to funnel into her senses. In chaotic places, She found, the Way helped quite often to make things a bit clearer. This situation—this chaos—was a bit of an exception. There were too many factors to keep track of, too many names and faces all vying to proclaim themselves as real creatures in their newfound Limbo. She preferred the opposite—would have rather lived in the negative space. The Stillness.

The mute girl, who introduced herself as Lillith based on a squinted reading of her scrawling, also seemed out of her mind. Much like Zoey, it was straight to magic, or in this case ‘the Extra-Normal’. She supposed she wasn’t much better, but it made sense that others sought a bright billboard welcoming them to their death, or whatever was next, wheresoever you choose to call it…

Zoey’s own appraisal of her manner of speech brought a smile to the enigmatic girl’s face. All too often, her progenitor sages were lumped together. The Old Master, the Lord of War, and… Haiku master Basho, it seemed. Any excuse to recede into the watcher was comforting enough. This was not the time or place, she thought, for elaborating on foundational principles. Alas, the maelstrom exchange game of names, and faces, and final resting places continued to reign; and up next was Stacey Gray. 

His meek voice hardly carried, and as the doors propagated more and more new subjects of conversation, his words seemed swiftly overlooked. He did, however, manage to direct a modicum of attention in her direction, and she couldn’t quite deny the question. [i]Was she afraid of being painted suspicious?[/i] No. Not in Limbo, but courtesy and poise couldn’t be foregone. Not even in some simulated abandoned place—their new hellscape. The girl slid her hand across the bar where she sat and secured a barback’s receipt pad. For a moment, it appeared as though she ignored Stacey, occupied instead with little, fervent slashes across her new canvas. 34 in total. It was just long enough, she hoped, for the attention to be eschewed elsewhere. Only then could the sage retain her constant state. Better off unknown... Better off dead...

It read: [b][color=black]“魔緒”[/color][/b] 
The sort of characters daddy bribes the priest to paint on your grave.

[color=black][b] “Mao.”[/b][/color] She nodded to Stacey, not much caring to pursue the topic further. It was interesting, that subtle ability of hers to drop her words into the offbeats—as though waiting for moments when few were listening. Something else caught her attention. The jukebox activated just at the right moment—a sort of saving grace for Mao faux-focus on. Instead, her eyes lingered on the newcomer who entered purgatory dressed to head to the heavens. Mao knew her bet.

[color=black][b] “Here for a reason,”[/b][/color] she said. [color=black][b] “Clever...”[/b][/color] Mao started tapping arrhythmically against the bar as the music began to play. She wasn’t paying much mind to the words or even its musical measures for that matter. That was the Way of Niten, after all. Keep no distinct rhythm. Reinvent. Find your own. The investigator speech continued, and Mao only grew more amused as she followed along. It was getting harder to hide it all. She furrowed her brow, showed an angled grin. 

[color=black][b] “He’s dead,”[/b][/color] Mao echoed, and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. It only picked up when he withdrew the badge and proclaimed his position.[color=black][b] “Occult and Paranormal Activity, yes.”[/b][/color] Mao showed the slightest sign of second-guessing herself, bringing a palm against her cheek. They were all out of their minds, she thought, but perhaps that was the way to be. [i]When met with the void, eschew the self. The sage assimilates with the Way.[/i]

[color=black][b] “It just [i]sounds[/i] professional...”[/b][/color] Mao shifted herself up atop the bar, setting the empty drink down next to her. [color=black][b] “We’re all agents of something these days. Aren’t we? Some more delusional than others... My money’s on the Void, investigator—give it one of a thousand different names.”[/b][/color]