Scribe of Thoth

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

_{April 9th - Morning}

---

Daigo was wrong; the renovations were not interesting in the slightest. A fresh coat of paint and no longer having to contend with the minor inconveniences of an old building were nice, but the appeal was superficial and quickly taken for granted. An auditorium of all things was hardly a claim to fame. That was just a gym with nicer seating arrangements, and at least the gym could be used for other stuff. The drama club was probably head over heels, but Daigo himself couldn't care less. Assemblies always made him antsy, regardless of setting; it's why he avoided movie theaters unless something he really wanted to see was playing.

Speaking of which, the squirrelly boy's attention span had reached its limit by the time the council president had taken the stage. He vaguely registered Nakano-senpai's inspirational words but didn't take the time to actually process them. He feed himself enough trite platitudes as it was, he didn't need them preached to him by others too. Sometimes success was just out of one's hands, but of course that wasn't going to come up; it didn't make for a very good speech. Daigo's momentary shift in mood seemed to be contagious, as the speech took on a dour tone just as the fleeting bitter thoughts vacated his mind. Mention of the missing students was a bit strange. It had been... sheesh, five months; it wasn't like they'd died over the break and the school needed to put out a statement. Tragedies were typically forgotten about after the initial buzz died down until maybe the anniversary where someone would solemnly say a few words of remembrance and go back to forgetting. Either way, it was still nice of the school to memorialize them like that, even if the timing was a bit odd.

Dismissal was a surefire way to lift spirits, though, and whatever somberness had gripped the room - if there even was any, it had been quiet for the assembly regardless - had been replaced by the same chatter and motion that had preceded the ceremony. Daigo shot to his feet immediately, grateful for the chance to stretch his legs even as he danced in place while he waited for the people blocking his exit to file out from the row of chairs. He'd narrowly avoided being late to school, might as well show up to class itself early. Besides, finding people he knew didn't do him much good if they ended up in 2-B or something.

When he arrived, Daigo took a seat located comfortably in the middle of the room; the front invited too much attention and the back was typically where people he didn't get along with sat. At least, he was going to until he shifted to adjust his jacket and his chair emitted a shrill creak. Daigo winced, then scooted forward in repeat of the gesture that provoked such an ungodly noise. Same result. Nope, this wouldn't work - it might've been okay before class started, but he'd piss off the whole room once it got quiet with how often he squirmed in his seat. So much for brand new chairs.

The ginger nudged his belongings over to the seat beside him and shifted into the other chair, giving an apologetic wave to another student whose brief sour frown likely meant he'd been eyeing the seat Daigo just stole. Daigo experimentally bounced his knee as he was wont to do anytime he was seated, then nodded in satisfaction when no irritating sounds arose from his chair. Sorry, other kid, but this decision was for everyone's sake.

---

Of Blood and Magic

---

Max needed to know who to talk to about getting towel racks that were both easily removable from the wall and sharpened to a fine point at the end for staking vampires. Surely some avant-garde designer leech was trying to make home defense in the bathroom trendy.

The classroom was decidedly not what Max had been expecting. Creepy esoteric looking shit as the centerpiece of the room was practically a staple around here, even if all the aligned metal pieces were probably part of another elaborate building block puzzle. The pyramid might do something funky, though, so the brunet made a note to keep his eye on it if its purpose in the inevitable upcoming exercise never got adequately explained. More pressingly, there was nowhere to sit. It looked like some war table everyone in a movie would stand around while General Metalhands over there explained how he was going to save the day with some risky maneuver that he played out using the metal blocks while the rest of the cast argued. Okay, maybe exposure to Eris was getting him a bit too into the entertainment media mindset. Point was, this looked like a room set up for a very specific demonstration, not a place he'd be taking lectures, even if there was a sizeable practical component to the class.

The other student seemed to have the right idea, leaning on the table nonchalan- Greta's smouldering ashes, what the fuck was that guy wearing? The outfit was so garish it actually took Max a moment to even notice the collar. His vampire must be a piece of work, or this clown was a complete pervert, or both. If that thing was his fucking focus too, Max might actually end up getting kicked out for laughing. He was barely managing to bite his tongue as it was, if only because he was pretty sure Professor Artismo or whatever his name was could fold him like a pretzel right now and he didn't want to be on the bad side of people who could do that. Still, if Rainbow Retriever had an ugly voice or something on top of that, Max was gonna have to take his chances with the punishment.

No, he couldn't wait until later. Maxwell Alderman may, at times, be polite, but he was never nice. Max lifted his phone with the bare minimum level of discretion and angled his camera at the walking fashion crime, making sure to feature the collar prominently in the shot. He couldn't just not laugh at this guy, even if it had to wait until later. But then there was the question of who to send this gem of a picture to. Salem was probably the easiest to talk shit with, even if that weirdo might actually consider the color scheme viable. Still, the guy was literally wearing a collar. The joke wrote itself.

> Attached: 1 IMG
> Look Aaron joined the circus

Who else? Lilie wasn't exactly mean, but everyone intuitively had to know this was funny. If she didn't get the joke, she was blind. He should probably exclude the Aaron angle though, since they're in like-like now or whatever.

> Attached: 1 IMG
> Bruh

Oh, and Max couldn't forget the man himself. Aaron would probably send back a dry response but collar aside, he'd be agreeing. Maybe with a new leech he'd learn to stand up for himself - Max was practically doing him a favor here by giving the blond a snapshot of his life ten years down the road.

> Attached: 1 IMG
> Thought you dyed your hair for a sec smh

Ah, hell, might as well send it to Eris too. Y'know, as an afterthought. They weren't friends or anything. Plus, if the initial shock didn't outright kill the leech, his commentary would probably be better than anything Max could come up with himself.

> Attached: 1 IMG
> If you get a call about me bullying another student later I'm just letting you know rn it was because of this
> Ik you understand

Max tucked his phone away politely after he'd finished his bout of acting like a high school girl and turned his attention toward the professor. "They couldn't arrange for, like, plastic chairs or something?" He questioned absentmindedly. It wasn't exactly a leap to assume the reasoning why everything had been removed from the classroom was because they all had metallic components and nobody wanted a student to accidentally send a chair flying during a lesson or something. Not that Max was complaining about less objects to manage his magic pouring into, but they could at least give him something to sit on, especially if Artiae intended on giving them a decent workout.

---

@Hero@Trainerblue192@Obscene Symphony _{Everybody gets a text today!}

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

_{April 9th - Morning}

---

Late on the first day. That wasn't a good start to the year. Daigo shifted his weight foot to foot in front of the stove as he bristled with a swell of anxiety that fast overtook the lingering traces of sleepiness still clinging to him. He should've just made his lunch the night before like he usually did, but there was yelling coming from the kitchen when he went downstairs to start and the boy had learned to stay quite clear of that over the last few months. Then, of course, he underestimated the time it would take and foolishly decided to ignore the first three of his five alarms, as enamored with the sleep schedule he'd picked up over the break as he was. Surely they'd have some leftover rice and whatever meat hadn't been served the night before in the fridge that Daigo could simply throw together and be on his way, right? Wrong. Now he was waiting for fresh rice to cook while juggling three different pans because even after all of those setbacks, he still convinced himself he could make a proper lunch. Just throwing half cooked food away wasn't an option; his father would kill him. Though, his father would probably kill him anyway if he saw how sloppily Daigo was folding the tamagoyaki.

Man's hubris truly knew no bounds as the ginger bravely turned back with the intent to start whisking together a quick sauce for his meal, humming a melancholy tune he'd picked up from a dream no differently than he would a cheery birdsong. He'd be fine. Being late didn't really matter. Sort of. Thankfully for his sake, the click of the rice cooker promptly interrupted that course of action. Right, no time. Daigo dumped the rice in the pan where he'd been frying his salmon for color. A dash of soy sauce, the rest of the vegetables, and he finally had a clump of food he could throw messily in his lunchbox. A nervous glance at his phone said that was all the time he was probably getting - 7:45, he was so late. The dirty pans all clattered into the sink with little more than a quick rinse; he could clean them properly when he got home, no one would even notice.

Daigo rushed downstairs, pirouetting skillfully past a passing waitress that was setting up for the day's service on his way toward the side door. "Sorry-sorry-sorry," He called back with an awkward bow of his head before poking his head into the kitchen briefly. "I'm leaving!" Once again, the boy didn't wait for a response; he had no time to waste, so he bounded out the door and started running down the street as unassumingly as one can move at that speed.

---

Daigo arrived at the gates of Hinotori High School winded and almost wheezing, but at least he was on time. At least, he thought he was, but as he looked around, the unfamiliar scenery suggested he wasn't even at the right school. He wasn't even at the right school! For a fraction of a second, Daigo's visage cracked with a defeated frown. A couple latecoming students shot a confused glance at the kid doubled over and panting at the gates and looking like he'd just witnessed a murder, but most just hurried inside. Would he look like too much of an idiot if he turned around and walked away? Wasn't like he could be double-late. His stomach lurched, and not just because that degree of exercise didn't agree with him. All that effort, only to end up still late because of some stupid navigational error. How did he even do that?! Did he make a wrong turn? No, it was fine. The first thing he needed to figure out was where he'd even ended up, but when he turned his head toward the sign it read... Hinotori High School?

Right, the renovations must've finished. That would explain everyone else having a matching uniform, now that his brain was back to thinking rather than panicking. He was such an idiot. It was fine. Of course it was. Daigo cleared his throat and stood back upright, adjusting his glasses to hide the blush of embarrassment creeping across his features (and the fact that his eyes were stinging a little but was just because of allergies, darn it!). Now that he thought about it, this was almost worse - 'Hinari was being a fucking weirdo at the gates today' was far more worthy of gossiping about than him simply being late. At least he hadn't done something dramatic like wail in despair.

Daigo slipped in to the first available seat he saw when he finally arrived at the gymnasium, which of course meant awkwardly sliding past people since edge seats were popular with people who didn't want to be somewhere, and he didn't think anybody actually wanted to be at the opening ceremony. Even as a bright-eyed first year, he'd only found it engaging until the principal's welcome blended into pointless droning and a buzzing feeling in his legs kept screaming at him to get up and move. That was fine, though; the renovations were probably great and new amenities were cool to learn about, even if it would probably sound like bragging on the administration's part.

---

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

It was times like these Auberon was thankful his family rarely travelled. In his earlier years, Auberon often lamented that his father owned no southern manor where he could spend the winter in more temperate climes. If little Aubie spent more than ten minutes on this carriage, he was certain the boy would've been more content with shivering. To make matters worse, Auberon - ever the chivalrous one - had even foolishly volunteered for a seat in the middle rather than one of the more stable seats on the outside, with nothing to hold onto when the carriage lurched but the fellow students packed in next to him and without even a decent window view to preoccupy his attention.

It could've been worse, he reminded himself, as he quickly darted a hand downward to provide something of a cushion for Derec's poor head when they hit another bump and the redhead swayed dangerously close to knocking himself out on Auberon's kneecap. Forget combat training, he'd be concussed before they even arrived at this rate. His only reprieve was the muffled sounds of the Kalonics discussing where to take a break over the clattering of hooves and creaking of the wagons. The earlier mention of this being only half the trip was quietly vacated from his mind, and the realization that they'd have to weather this again on the way back was locked away in the deepest part of his subconscious, never to emerge. Better to focus on the destination - they'd be doing combat training at last. Well, 'at last' was a stretch. It had only been a few days, hardly a significant wait, but history was a poor substitute for the rush of even a simulated battlefield, of shaping his Lions into the proud killing machines their banner portrayed, of crushing the other houses underfoot. His divine lineage demanded nothing less than unconquerable glory, and that couldn't be achieved in a classroom, no matter how inspiring the great men of old being taught were.

When they finally came to a stop, his choice of seat took one last opportunity to spite him; Auberon was practically the last one to be allowed off. Despite the uncouthness of the act, Kellen seemed to have the right idea simply vaulting over the people between him and the great outdoors. Good timing too, he'd been sitting on Auberon's cape and it made any movement of his left shoulder incredibly unwieldy. He'd have to get used to managing that thing. The rest of his new uniform was sleek and closely tailored, with little bagginess or room to be caught on anything, but that new cape had proven to be nothing but a headache so far. Twice he'd gotten it snagged on a doorknob now. The brilliant azure was a fine addition from an aesthetic standpoint - it made his rank clearly identifiable and compensated for the lack of gold embellishment that his old uniform had possessed - but functionally? It was a mess.

The boy rotated his arm for the first time in a few hours to ward off stiffness as he finally climbed down from the carriage. "If this keeps up, I might have to beg the professors to simply let me walk back," He complained to no one in particular. He'd probably be less sore than if he actually took the carriage, too. Though grabbing a drink from the river was tempting, Auberon stuck to a quick stretching regimen as a way to unwind from the trip, at least until he had a chance to make sure they weren't downstream from the village latrines. Wouldn't do him any good to show up to combat practice wound up and ready to pull a muscle with every sweep of his axe. He needed to establish himself quickly in front of the prince and anyone else who thought they might have a chance in the year's competitions, because the rest of his House certainly didn't look like they'd be turning any heads this early. Derec and Lienna probably had no formal combat training before this, and peasant levies weren't exactly renowned for their skill or even ability to survive outside of a shield wall if they had been trained. Kellen was his saving grace and, Goddess willing, the boy would be far more impressive than his demeanor suggested.

Coincidentally, Kellen's talk of the students arming themselves was probably the best thing Auberon had heard from him yet. Well, not really, because that implied they were in trouble, but the sentiment behind it was comforting. Not that it sounded too confident either- it didn't matter; he was nitpicking. He followed the others' gaze to where the riders were approaching. The professors looked too tense for this to have been scheduled. Michail had grabbed a weapon, but if the students hadn't been ordered to do so, it was likely just a precaution. But would the staff really ask a bunch of untrained kids to defend themselves even if there was danger? Whatever, better to be safe and look foolish than to get caught with their pants down by potential brigands or whoever was brave enough to charge right toward a passing caravan. Michail was doubtlessly capable but he couldn't be everywhere at once if multiple assailants came to join their two friends. Assuming even half of the students in the Rose Unit had what passed for combat aptitude, though? They could hold off any number of common highwaymen. Especially ones dumb enough to approach a group that size with hostility.

"Couldn't hurt," The blond responded as he paced toward the weapon cart with less urgency than the situation might've demanded. "If we're wrong, I'll repack the wagon myself."

---

@ThatCharacter

Of Blood and Magic

---

Max's face contorted into a scrunched up mess at Eris' words, as if the leech had shoved a sour candy in his mouth rather than simply mentioned an inspection. What the fuck did that mean? The sexual connotations he was ascribing to the statement were probably more imagined than real, given Eris' sudden interest in his magic, but did the blond have to make it sound so fucking creepy? What did his appearance have to do with him being a special little Taldrin collector's piece anyway; it wasn't a tangible quality. Ugh, he thought this was all over after Feliks got ahold of his wardrobe, what more did Eris want?

"Fine, but you better turn the heater up before I get out of the shower if you expect me to trounce around naked for your amusement," Max snapped begrudgingly, "And if you make it weird, I'm throwing the fridge at you." He knew what was coming; the moment Eris had figured out... whatever the hell he needed to figure out by eyeing him like a piece of meat, he'd start teasingly prodding and commenting until he got the explosion he wanted and then dance off to class while riding the attention high. Max had no choice but to play the game too, if he wanted to be able to look himself in the mirror afterward, anyway.

He dropped the blanket he'd been wearing like a cape on the floor with little regard and marched into the bathroom. He wasn't in any rush to make the shower quick to begin with, but now that Eris had told him to hurry up, he was sure to take extra time. The warmth was nice, and it wasn't until the whole room had gotten nice and steamy that Max even considered turning the water off - in no small part because he knew he'd be standing there for a while and he wanted to keep the cold at bay for as long as he could. Plus, if all the moisture made Eris cut the feeding short because it was messing his hair up, even better.

He threw on a clean pair of underwear, as requested, and cracked the door just enough to let his head poke out. "Alright, pervert, I'm done. Get in here," The mage shouted across the dorm before slamming the door shut again. He did a quick once-over of himself in the mirror as he tussled his hair into its usual careless bedhead with a comb. Everything looked... normal. Nothing Eris could complain about, anyway. Unless the leech was expecting Max to look like a supermodel by the time of his actual public debut, which sounded like a lot of work and a miserable diet of tasteless crap. Maybe the tiny bit of mass he'd put on lugging around that armor for the past few months would placate the vampire for now. No, this was probably just Eris wanting to catalogue his newfound gem before he put it on display. Ugh, now he sounded anxious. That was a weak person word. Expectant? No. He just wanted to know what the fuck Eris wanted, and whether or not it involved effort. This was probably just some weird new way for Eris to mess with him.

---

@Hero

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

Hinari Daigo - The Sun

HINARI DAIGO
陽也 醍醐

5'6"/167 cm | 125 lbs/56 kg | 16 | 2nd Year | Male

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ

Eager to please but sometimes a little too overbearing to actually make it happen, Daigo is boisterous and energetic in the same way an annoying little brother would be. He's hardly someone his peers would consider a genius - don't need booksmarts to run a restaurant, he claims - but he's infectiously cheery and tries his hardest to make sure everyone is having a good time. Even if he's crossed the line from lively and spirited to irritating as hell at the moment and doesn't realize he's the problem. Still, Daigo makes it a point to always be smiles and laughter, even when the smile is forced and his eyes are unfocused and dim rather than lively and vibrant. Not to say such a facade is a common facet of his features - usually his personality is genuine, but occasionally he'll overhear someone talking about money and his posture will sink for just a moment, or mention of the family business he formerly bragged about with pride and animated gestures will elicit only a noncommittal hum or halfhearted commentary. A subtle anxiety underlies a lot of his moods as of recent times, and while the boy had always been hesitant to express outward negativity, he now pointedly avoids any kind of introspective or 'deep' talk that he wouldn't usually shy away from. He's fine. Everything's fine. It'll all work out.

ＡＲＣＡＮＡ

The Sun

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡ

Khepri - Egyptian solar deity representing the rising sun, creation, and renewal.

ＳＫＩＬＬＳ

Kouha (Light Bless damage to one foe)
Lunge (Light Physical damage to one foe)
Rakukaja (Increase one ally's Defense)

ＴＲＡＮＳＦＯＲＭＡＴＩＯＮ

Daigo dons a suit of old-timey samurai lamellar, colored similarly to his Persona and stylized vaguely to resemble an insectoid carapace. His already vibrant hair gains highlights that glitter in a brilliant array of colors like the sky at sunset; fiery oranges, yellows, reds, even purples and blues at times. These streaks are normally unnoticeable but quickly become apparent during movement or a strong breeze when Daigo's hair shifts and catches the light.

ＷＥＡＰＯＮ

Naginata

ＨＩＳＴＯＲＹ

The Hinaris are, as Daigo will proudly boast, owners of a kaiseki diner that dates all the way back to the Edo Period. He grew up helping out in the kitchen and, once he was old enough, serving customers. It was a fulfilling existence, even from a child's perspective, and when Daigo's grandfather retired and passed ownership of the restaurant to his father, the boy was eager to throw himself into the family business with the knowledge it would likely one day be his. The dream was far less glamorous in practice. With the change came a decline in customers - perhaps the old clientele was no longer interested in a diner that wasn't run by Daigo's grandfather, perhaps the modernization of Kyoto simply left the old place behind. The Hinaris continued as they had for generations, chalking the situation up to a string of bad luck that would soon be over.

Apparently the business' woes weren't as secret as the family thought, as Daigo returned from school one day to find his parents meeting with a pair of sharply dressed businessmen. They wanted to buy the restaurant for a particularly nice sum, as it was located primely in the middle of their company's new urban development project. They could take the money, start the family business over in a new area, reinvent their brand, be set for life, et cetera, et cetera. While Daigo's mother was open to consideration given their recent monetary losses, his father, naturally, would have none of it. Kaiseki Hinari would stay right where it was until the sun engulfed the Earth and maybe beyond that if he had anything to say about it.

After that, new development conveniently sprang up in a way that left Kaiseki Hinari out of the way from a pedestrian's standpoint and somewhat inconvenient to reach in lieu of much more accessible dining. Already on hard times, it took only a few short months to reduce the restaurant to toeing the line of closure when traditional means of attracting customers were suddenly no longer viable. Too stubborn to change the diner's business model or advertising strategy but too prideful to sell, Daigo's father seemed determined to go down with his ship; whether his family starved in the process or not. For what it was worth, Daigo agreed with him - in part, at least. He loved that restaurant; selling the business now so it could be torn down by scheming rats or worse, letting said vermin whore out the Kaiseki Hinari name for their own profit, was unacceptable. Still, his suggestions on modernizing the business fell on deaf ears. The fact that he'd convinced his father to sully the restaurant's proud traditions and begin selling - heaven forbid - mere lunch bentos was practically a miracle.

Unfortunately, problems beget more problems. As it often did, heightened stress and the threat of poverty turned the trivial quirks of any family that would usually be glossed over into glaring issues ready to tear the household apart in arguments and irritability. Debts were mounting, tensions in the family were high over whether to sell or not, his mother was threatening divorce over his father's stubbornness; Daigo's life was set on a downward spiral straight to the ass-end of misery with no exit in sight. He had no options but to push it all down into the depths of his psyche, put on a smile, and greet the ever-slowing trickle of customers like he always would.

ＭＩＳＣ

Always fidgeting, sometimes to others' annoyance. Poster child for restless leg syndrome. Not a guy you wanna sit next to on a wobbly bench. Taptaptap.

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

Don't Let These Glasses Fool You, I'm Very Stupid

HINARI DAIGO

5'6"/167 cm | 125 lbs/56 kg | 16 | 2nd Year | Male

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ

Eager to please but sometimes a little too overbearing to actually make it happen, Daigo is boisterous and energetic in the same way an annoying little brother would be. He's hardly someone his peers would consider a genius - don't need booksmarts to run a restaurant, he claims - but he's infectiously cheery and tries his hardest to make sure everyone is having a good time. Even if he's crossed the line from lively and spirited to irritating as hell at the moment and doesn't realize he's the problem. Still, Daigo makes it a point to always be smiles and laughter, even when the smile is forced and his eyes are unfocused and dim rather than lively and vibrant. Not to say such a facade is a common facet of his features - usually his personality is genuine, but occasionally he'll overhear someone talking about money and his posture will sink for just a moment, or mention of the family business he formerly bragged about with pride and animated gestures will elicit only a noncommittal hum or halfhearted commentary. A subtle anxiety underlies a lot of his moods as of recent times, and while the boy had always been hesitant to express outward negativity, he now pointedly avoids any kind of introspective or 'deep' talk that he wouldn't usually shy away from. He's fine. Everything's fine. It'll all work out.

ＡＲＣＡＮＡ

The Sun

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡ

Khepri - Egyptian solar deity representing the rising sun, creation, and renewal.

ＳＫＩＬＬＳ

Kouha (Light Bless damage to one foe)
Lunge (Light Physical damage to one foe)
Rakukaja (Increase one ally's Defense)

ＴＲＡＮＳＦＯＲＭＡＴＩＯＮ

Daigo dons a suit of old-timey samurai lamellar, colored similarly to his Persona and stylized vaguely to resemble an insectoid carapace. His already vibrant hair gains highlights that glitter in a brilliant array of colors like the sky at sunset; fiery oranges, yellows, reds, even purples and blues at times. These streaks are normally unnoticeable but quickly become apparent during movement or a strong breeze when Daigo's hair shifts and catches the light.

ＷＥＡＰＯＮ

Naginata

ＨＩＳＴＯＲＹ

The Hinaris are, as Daigo will proudly boast, owners of a kaiseki diner that dates all the way back to the Edo Period. He grew up helping out in the kitchen and, once he was old enough, serving customers. It was a fulfilling existence, even from a child's perspective, and when Daigo's grandfather retired and passed ownership of the restaurant to his father, the boy was eager to throw himself into the family business with the knowledge it would likely one day be his. The dream was far less glamorous in practice. With the change came a decline in customers - perhaps the old clientele was no longer interested in a diner that wasn't run by Daigo's grandfather, perhaps the modernization of Kyoto simply left the old place behind. The Hinaris continued as they had for generations, chalking the situation up to a string of bad luck that would soon be over.

Apparently the business' woes weren't as secret as the family thought, as Daigo returned from school one day to find his parents meeting with a pair of sharply dressed businessmen. They wanted to buy the restaurant for a particularly nice sum, as it was located primely in the middle of their company's new urban development project. They could take the money, start the family business over in a new area, reinvent their brand, be set for life, et cetera, et cetera. While Daigo's mother was open to consideration given their recent monetary losses, his father, naturally, would have none of it. Kaiseki Hinari would stay right where it was until the sun engulfed the Earth and maybe beyond that if he had anything to say about it.

After that, new development conveniently sprang up in a way that left Kaiseki Hinari out of the way from a pedestrian's standpoint and somewhat inconvenient to reach in lieu of much more accessible dining. Already on hard times, it took only a few short months to reduce the restaurant to toeing the line of closure when traditional means of attracting customers were suddenly no longer viable. Too stubborn to change the diner's business model or advertising strategy but too prideful to sell, Daigo's father seemed determined to go down with his ship; whether his family starved in the process or not. For what it was worth, Daigo agreed with him - in part, at least. He loved that restaurant; selling the business now so it could be torn down by scheming rats or worse, letting said vermin whore out the Kaiseki Hinari name for their own profit, was unacceptable. Still, his suggestions on modernizing the business fell on deaf ears. The fact that he'd convinced his father to sully the restaurant's proud traditions and begin selling - heaven forbid - mere lunch bentos was practically a miracle.

Unfortunately, problems beget more problems. As it often did, heightened stress and the threat of poverty turned the trivial quirks of any family that would usually be glossed over into glaring issues ready to tear the household apart in arguments and irritability. Debts were mounting, tensions in the family were high over whether to sell or not, his mother was threatening divorce over his father's stubbornness; Daigo's life was set on a downward spiral straight to the ass-end of misery with no exit in sight. He had no options but to push it all down into the depths of his psyche, put on a smile, and greet the ever-slowing trickle of customers like he always would.

ＭＩＳＣ

Always fidgeting, sometimes to others' annoyance. Poster child for restless leg syndrome. Not a guy you wanna sit next to on a wobbly bench. Taptaptap.

Hmm today I will pick a literal rebirth deity and not notice for at least a few hours that I'm extremely on the nose (clueless)

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

I'm gonna steal Sun if it's still free

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

Stop making RPs that I wanna join damn it

Of Blood and Magic

---

The sun is bright. Wow, it was just a privilege to watch vampiric philosophy making strides right here in his bedroom. Strange to see a leech romanticizing it, though, even if that was quintessentially an Eris thing to do. Most of them wrote off the sun as 'evil death ball in the sky' and left it at that. Maybe he decided stars were pretty and his monkey brain processed that into 'big star mean big pretty'. Then again, he could've just as easily gotten the idea from a corny soap opera where Mortal A compares Mortal B's eyes to the sun and assumed every human was swayed by the sentiment.

"Yeah, the sun is bright, it's why we don't make a habit of staring directly into it. It's maybe a minor inconvenience while you're driving in the morning or evening, tops," Max explained as he pulled himself out of bed, jostling the dog first when he shifted his legs out and again as he dragged the blanket with him in a lazy attempt to fight off the cold. "And, like, sunburns but I'm not exactly a beach person if you couldn't tell." And if he wasn't before, he definitely wasn't now. Who the hell goes to a beach at night?

"As for stupid songs, I especially like the one about how it melts you fuckers but that one's grown a bit passé in the last couple centuries since the Treaty." Not that he had one in mind, but he assumed mages during the war had to be chanting something while they got victoriously drunk over a pile of ashes. Once he had finally risen to his feet and wrapped his comforter around himself in an adequately warm bundle, the mage arched a brow in Eris' direction, "Am I really the person you should be asking about music, anyway?" He had no idea how the vampire considered 'do humans have dumb nursery rhymes about the sun' the important part of that conversation. Was this Ismene's fault? Did she give Eris some feedback on asking mortals questions rather than extrapolating nonsense from out-of-touch vampiric theorists? Either way, wrong person - Max was neither an aesthete, a musician, or a person with a fondness for empty small talk right when he woke up. And he still didn't know what Eris wanted.

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@Hero