Appearance Name: Yagi Ai
Age: 19
Faction: Librarian
Personality: “Cheap trick” is an expression that truly solidifies into the person that is Ai. An opportunist in his faction, he pulls off well as both a fellow cause-loyal rioter and an oblivious citizen within all the chaos, although to his friends in the faction it really just seems like good cover-up. Of course, some will become wary of his absence from many key riots, but nobody can say anything against him as it is however easy to get loss in the mess. The majority of his contacts are with the scattered radicals within the rebels, those who rob and kidnap and leave their companions to die on the run “for freedom!”, of which Ai has become very well acquainted with. Equipped with experience and a way with words, he rose from a minimum of painless imprisonments to becoming specialized in blackmail missions and extortions, rarely ever resorting to real physical violence, although he does know how to wield sharp objects. He is surprisingly cautious under his shock of black hair, constantly fleeing from places too well known, and clever in a way, but even through the charming façade he is developing a sense of paranoia, and oftentimes tries to walk at the back of a group of people of which he knows there are several in position of sharp objects, in fear of being stabbed from behind. This even manifests in a sort of insecure arrogance that of course wouldn’t show, but manifests itself in the feeling that somebody is always judging his looks and strut, or in the need to completely either humiliate, fool or downright feel in control of others to unconsciously prove to himself that he is better, that he’s really the smarter one, that he is amazing.
History: Although he comes from a poor enough family, his parents, recognizing the importance of such, dedicated a great sum of money into his education, even buying him books outside of regular school and forcing him to read and memorize important information. The child grew bored easily, but found out cheats and systems to only read the essential things that would impress his parents and teachers – otherwise Ai didn’t care much about anything but mundane child antics with his friends. Skipped pages of books and running around barefoot were almost the entirety of his early childhood. Approaching his early teens, though, Ai became progressively sicker, often having to lie in bed days on end with a high fever, and although they put up with it the first month, having to believe that this shall pass, on the second the resolution his parents made was to sell the furniture for money. On the third they sold clothes, on the fourth they sold the curtains and all the sheets except for the one their son lied under. Every time he showed signs of recovery the family was dipped in the most joyous atmosphere such an empty, tiny house could express. Every time his health dropped, even the neighbors felt the brooding silence that fell with it. On the fifth his books were sold, and the most prestigious doctor they could have possibly afforded was found and slowly cured the boy. On the first days of his return to the outside world, the frail teenager noticed a shift in the attitude of people. Everyone was so sorry for him, but everyone was so sorry in such a condescending way. And now he didn’t go to school anymore, his life being in a state of recovery. Now he was unfortunate, passively unfortunate. “He was such a bright, hardworking boy, the poor dear!” They went on and on with the terrifying implication that those five months of inactivity had made him dumb, weak, useless. As if it’s alright to imply this because he was sick. That entire year for his family was horrible with or without the empty sympathy. And that’s what he begun to feel. Empty, aggressively, actively empty.
With fiscal matters becoming the silent weight on family dinners that grew shorter, blander and soggier every day, Ai was determined to do something. Empty and angry from the mockery of passivity, as he dared think it, hopelessness, the teenager stepped into the places he understood the contents of but never entered. He could not be strong due to his past ailments, but he was quick and good at keeping out of trouble. He pretended to have a cause, to denounce the government that he read exactly two pages about, delivered rousing speeches with hints of flattery directed towards each audience he met. He shone like before, and he got money from it. On his way home he bought fish and legumes, telling his parents that he’d have caught and foraged it all with his own two hands. This grew until eventually his parents got themselves a small piece of land to farm on, around the time he grew up and set off on his own, with a knife and some friends. Through the years he’d have become a criminal… but for the Librarian, so it’s alright to the few chosen people that accompany him. And he’s alright, he thought, if there were at least this whole community approving of him. He’s still empty now from the terror of that fever, but Ai knows exactly what he’s doing.
Tome: Probably the only book he really cares about. As a book, it is small, vertically the length of an adult hand and horizontally maybe the width of the wrist. It is completely covered in thin-looking black leather, and the empty pages are yellowish in color. There are no markings or anything special on the cover, but the endpapers are pale silver coloured, tin-foil-like pieces with intricate carvings on them of flowers and monsters, maybe telling a story... although if that’s the case Ai really has no idea what it is. It also seems as if the flowers and monsters moved, some disappearing from the paper completely, others appearing in the middle of it out of nowhere. Its owner never finds the time to investigate or even stare at the paper long enough to see any movement, though.
Activated, it is a sharp, finger-sized knife that bends up just a bit nearing its tiny point – not his usual dagger for extortions, which looks smartly threatening but otherwise mediocre. This is more the kind that peels apples and stabs backs. It is apparently made out of smooth glass, and is completely transparent if one didn’t pay attention, appearing only a tiny bit more clearly to Ai. The nameless dagger (he fails to see why a name is necessary) is very much unbreakable, and actually extremely tough; its transparence is reinforced by the fact that when dust or any other filth lands on it, it slides off immediately. A meager ability. Right?
