[It's difficult to get much of a read on Hakari, as he's taken to calling himself since receiving his name. He spends most of his time with a small, bland smile that doesn't say very much about what he's thinking, or a more or less expressionless face, and his voice doesn't give away much more.]
[As he and his god approach the restaurant where the troubled company's staff are having their company drinking party tonight, though, he pauses. For a second, he actually looks like he might be frowning.]
There are...
...no ayakashi here.
Peanut Party
[There don't really seem to be any malevolent spirits lurking around the festival, either... but festivals are strange times, and strange things can happen. The shinki looks decorative enough in his bright, elaborate robes, anyway... He's somehow been drafted into working at a snack stand, and he's not really complaining; it's a chance to talk to some people, and that's a chance to sniff out a place where he's actually needed.]
[He smiles up at a passing god or shinki -- a strange, enigmatic smile, as he gestures to an array of candies, baked goods, and souvenirs on the table before him.]
Come in, please. What, I wonder... could catch such a discerning customer's interest?
Quiet Quail
[Honestly? This doesn't seem any stranger to him than a human's wish.]
[And it should be simply enough done, shouldn't it? Even without his god around, perhaps.]
[That's why, a few minutes after he finds the quail, someone might find him sitting cross-legged on the ground in a public park, carefully painting bright, glittering, apparently kabuki-influenced makeup onto a slightly fretful quail draped in colorful veils.]
Now, now. Hold still... just a little longer, I implore you.
[Nothing weird going on here, definitely.]
Roaring Riders
[Honestly, he just... doesn't see the point. Surely the annoyance of waking up once a night isn't enough for an ayakashi to really grow strong on, so why should it be their problem? If they do have to care, why not just take it up with the god in question and have them deal with their followers?]
[It's a nuisance, fine, but why waste time running after every little nuisance?]
[He glances sideways at his god, hands tucked into his voluminous sleeves to ward against a slight evening chill.]
...You're certain... this is important?
Slick Sevens
[Something is different about this mission. Strange shadows are gathering in the air, and something feels...]
[Something feels right about it.]
[There's a new light in his eyes, but even so, there's no sense in rushing in without investigating. It's important to understand the source of the problem at its roots first, after all.]
[It's important.]
[All evening, he's been going from table to table, trying his hand at all of the games, mingling with the patrons. He's spent the last hour or so at a poker table, and as he lays down a fairly miserable hand on the table after a few winning hands, his little smile remains as unshakable as ever.]
My, my.
Perhaps... my luck is finally... running thin.
[He sounds completely unconcerned by the thought, and he honestly is. What he's winning is the reactions he can read on the other players' faces -- and those are what he's been in it to win from the beginning, even if he's been careful to more or less break even. That's what gives his smile a tiny edge of victory, for a brief moment, as he glances over to where his god is.]
The Medicine Seller | Mononoke | Shinki
[It's difficult to get much of a read on Hakari, as he's taken to calling himself since receiving his name. He spends most of his time with a small, bland smile that doesn't say very much about what he's thinking, or a more or less expressionless face, and his voice doesn't give away much more.]
[As he and his god approach the restaurant where the troubled company's staff are having their company drinking party tonight, though, he pauses. For a second, he actually looks like he might be frowning.]
There are...
...no ayakashi here.
Peanut Party
[There don't really seem to be any malevolent spirits lurking around the festival, either... but festivals are strange times, and strange things can happen. The shinki looks decorative enough in his bright, elaborate robes, anyway... He's somehow been drafted into working at a snack stand, and he's not really complaining; it's a chance to talk to some people, and that's a chance to sniff out a place where he's actually needed.]
[He smiles up at a passing god or shinki -- a strange, enigmatic smile, as he gestures to an array of candies, baked goods, and souvenirs on the table before him.]
Come in, please. What, I wonder... could catch such a discerning customer's interest?
Quiet Quail
[Honestly? This doesn't seem any stranger to him than a human's wish.]
[And it should be simply enough done, shouldn't it? Even without his god around, perhaps.]
[That's why, a few minutes after he finds the quail, someone might find him sitting cross-legged on the ground in a public park, carefully painting bright, glittering, apparently kabuki-influenced makeup onto a slightly fretful quail draped in colorful veils.]
Now, now. Hold still... just a little longer, I implore you.
[Nothing weird going on here, definitely.]
Roaring Riders
[Honestly, he just... doesn't see the point. Surely the annoyance of waking up once a night isn't enough for an ayakashi to really grow strong on, so why should it be their problem? If they do have to care, why not just take it up with the god in question and have them deal with their followers?]
[It's a nuisance, fine, but why waste time running after every little nuisance?]
[He glances sideways at his god, hands tucked into his voluminous sleeves to ward against a slight evening chill.]
...You're certain... this is important?
Slick Sevens
[Something is different about this mission. Strange shadows are gathering in the air, and something feels...]
[Something feels right about it.]
[There's a new light in his eyes, but even so, there's no sense in rushing in without investigating. It's important to understand the source of the problem at its roots first, after all.]
[It's important.]
[All evening, he's been going from table to table, trying his hand at all of the games, mingling with the patrons. He's spent the last hour or so at a poker table, and as he lays down a fairly miserable hand on the table after a few winning hands, his little smile remains as unshakable as ever.]
My, my.
Perhaps... my luck is finally... running thin.
[He sounds completely unconcerned by the thought, and he honestly is. What he's winning is the reactions he can read on the other players' faces -- and those are what he's been in it to win from the beginning, even if he's been careful to more or less break even. That's what gives his smile a tiny edge of victory, for a brief moment, as he glances over to where his god is.]