Scene #8841: Jinako's Invitation

Owner	Pose
BB	On the 'coast' of the Great Ocean are scatterings of islands, nautical oddities that come and go on the outskirts and web together deeper in. One of these islands has existed for a while, a quietly throbbing tourist oddity for those that visit. The people are well-built and enjoy themselves, life seems easy, not an incredible amount of work seems to be done, and there's a constant mid-grade festival going on that the residents have acclimated to - a year-round convention of some sort, with hotel homes. The island itself has a particular feeling, a Hawai'i-of-all-parts, geographically meshed together and stitched into one greater whole. On Waikiki Street of Luluhawa is a colorful riot of shops, cafes, and off-beach attractions. The people at these places are also colorful, of many nationalities and types of garb, speaking to each other and the locals in the visited patter of a lived-in and destination place. A pedalbike race is going on down the street, with a small crowd of onlookers to the foolishness of several dark-skinned shirtless men too large for their bikes getting smoked by some fair-skinned horned girl with red hands and red feet. The atmosphere is good, and in the sidewalk side of the beach street, Jinako Carigiri sits on an outside table, working on a silver round-edged laptop covered in stickers of varying aggression and cringe, hunched over the screen. She wears a dark brown tank top, jeans, and running shoes, her mane of shaggy and unbrushed brown hair tumbled slightly over her drooped-down-nose pair of large glasses. Nevertheless, there is an immaculate little red ribbon clipped into her hair. Eating from a plate of kofta croquets, she asks a question of her eating companion. "Hey," Jinako asks, looking up. "Do you think I did an..." Good job? Couldn't be. A fall-by-degree of her gaze, retreating by millimeters and failure to find. "... did you get what you wanted, pushing me past that wall?" Across from her, at the metal cafe table, sprawls the dark skinned BBeauty in a white leotard, red slippers, high collar, and sleepless bags under her crimson red eyes. The digital devil reaches out over the table to a well-used and long-nursed grande coffee cup from nowhere nearby. A black oil she craved as fuel, but brought no relief. Flicking eyes up from sullenly sharing space with her pathetic elephant accomplice, BB's attention narrows. "You spent your whole time drooling, eating pavement, getting run over by trash cans, and shouting about your fake heroes." She doesn't even 'BB' the 'aBBout'. Accomplice to accomplice, the digital devil tilts her head, a dark lilac bang falling past perfect cheek. "Then you said you were the cringe-iest possible thing, a Witch of the Clock Tower." A shining-lipped smirk, a cardinal-eyed wink, a sip of coffee that can't help the ache of her problems, and BB uncrosses her legs to stand, clicking slipperbottoms to pavement. "No. Not yet. So even if your patheticness oozes from your face, you're not allowed to stop. Remember that. I won't let you forget." "That was our deal." BB takes a second to gulp down - gulp, guLP, GULP - down her coffee, what sounds like drinking a drowning sea, and then... BB turns and wanders off, out of the indian cafe, and down the street, flicking out a pair of sunglasses to wear and hide her particular case of 'hung-over'. Jinako remains, lip trembling. "... It wasn't... cringe..." She murmurs only after BB is gone. "They don't even know what Clock Tower is..." But, ... the devil's right. And she's not allowed to forget.
Desire Stars	A woman with black hair bound neatly in a sidetail strides briskly through the festival proceedings with a black-and-yellow box in her hands. Her outfit, a study in black and white, consisting of a short jacket, a blouse, and an asymmetric skirt over leggings and boots, might be taken as celebrating the occasion, for its exaggerated lines and striking appearance. It might be, that is, but for how her businesslike smile and eyes-forward march seems to cut right through it all. For all the color displayed in attractions, cafes, and through shop windows, she still continues inexorably, as if she doesn't even see any of it. That she stops for the bike race seems to be the only sign that she's even aware of her surroundings. She's aware 'enough,' it seems, to make it to a particular outside table. Tsumuri arrives, right as BB is gone, and lamentations of cringe are made. "Congratulations," she says, courteously bulldozing past Jinako's woes to thrust the box towards her. "After careful consideration, you've been invited to become a Kamen Rider." The box is proferred. The rectangular Driver, with its circular center, bears a spot for a small pink authenticator token, with an image of an elephant in yellow relief. There's also a cell phone that looks like it'd survive an explosion, with how bulky its protective plating is.
BB	BB might be gone, but the words she said linger. Jinako's drooping eyes dip back under the lip of her computerscreen, fingers typing more aggressively for a few moments as feelings guide out her desire. Normalcy, steady, barely has a chance to establish before one more checkered individual arrives. Jinako had her head forced down into the brackish wellwater of long-trod miseries, familiar with the taste and still choking on the volume. Sullen, her eyes track up to-- --A lootcrate? A box? Some sort of swagbox? Jinako doesn't reach for it, doesn't lift a hand or a finger. 'You're not allowed to solicit on the street' is her first thought. '... during the day' is the second, a chaser to the shot before. Instead the shaggy-haired brunette shifts back from her shoulders-forward slouch, plucks free a fried ball, and pops it in her mouth, expression dull. Chewing, crunching slowly, she looks at the toys and phone. "I have a phone." Looking away, particular, she picks up her plate of fried vegetarian balls lightly drizzled with sauce, still a little warm, and offers them back. "Want a kofta?"
Desire Stars	Want a kofta? What is it with these people and giving me things? "...No, thank you," Tsumuri says, after an expectant pause just long enough to be awkward. "It's against our policy to contact our Riders on their personal phones," she explains, with that same businesslike slight smile. "Not to mention that the inherent danger of a Rider's work is likely to break most consumer electronics." "Jinako Carigiri," continues the navigator, cutting straight to the quick, "Do you accept the invitation to fight the Jyamato as Kamen Rider Leffa, and compete for a chance at a wish of your choosing?
BB	Jinako's left hand holds out the plate. Her right hand rests on the Cafe table, fully in view, the backstop of her palm against the side of her laptop. She is turned to take and also give, but her hand still doesn't move for the box. Her left hand holds out the plate. Her left hand reaches to take a fried ball off the tray, lightly tossing it into her mouth. Her left hand moves the plate it has held down, hospitality declined. "Your loss, they're good. Do you often turn down free experiences? Is it a professional courtesy? It's not really a courtesy, you know. I offered because I've got plenty, and you've got none. And you've just walked up, and..." Jinako's eyes drop to the box. 'Leffa'. 'Jinako Carigiri'. "Do you know who I really am?" She asks the box. "Do you know what I really am, miss? And you're looking for it?" She asks Tsumuri.
Desire Stars	Is it a professional courtesy? "Your offer is appreciated. However, DGP staff are expected to remain impartial," explains Tsumuri. There's no rule against it, but it's a rule she's made for herself. Tsumuri--'one whose eyes are closed.' Do you know what I really am, miss? And you're looking for it? That gives Tsumuri meaningful pause. She frowns thoughtfully. The Navigator doesn't know, what Jinako really is. Maybe... someone else in the production does? After that bit of reflection, she shakes her head. "No," she answers. "I'm Tsumuri, the Navigator. I know what you claim to be, but it's not my place to know what you are--my role is more like... a master of ceremonies. To me, all that's important is what you desire." She nods, towards the box. "You'll find a card under the foam insert. If you accept the invitation, supply a wish by writing it on that card, and have it ready by the start of the first round."
BB	Jinako watches the reaction, the reflection back of Tsumuri. She watches, throughout the whole offering of the fried balls, and the eyes-closed reaction to the whole of it. "Spilling blessings is just in my nature, I guess, but... If you'd like to recruit me, it'd look better if you didn't just say you appreciated the offer." Jinako states, looking at the box. "A pink elephant... huh?" She asks, the hanging '...ka?' of her accent translating through effortlessly native for the Navigator. Jumping attention from Tsumuri to box, and box back to Tsumuri. "You don't know either, do you. Why it's 'Leffa'. It's not like I'm elephantine." A bit of a vain and flush-cheeked navel-casted gaze follows, and then Jinako grumbling. "I have a gym membership, you know." Nobody does, Jinako. Nobody does. "Master of ceremonies?" Jinako's ball-hovering hand lifts to push her glasses up her nose, reflecting Hawaiian sun high above. "Well, then, I'll make you a side-deal. Tsumuri." Suddenly a bit more intense, Jinako reaches to push closed the screen of her laptop, and then scoop up the swagbox in her right hand. With her left, once more, she takes up her tray of sauce-drizzled warm fried balls. "I'll accept this blessing and show up, if you try one of these. I think that's a good start, don't you?" "This, for that?" Jinako asks, eyeglasses holding a shining glint of sunlight, smile considering-catlike. Her right arm holds the Rider box. Her left arm holds the tray treat-offerings. Her (a?) left arm reaches over the top of the held plate and offers out a particular blessing-ball. Jinako smiles. "That's what I want today. Do you?"
Desire Stars	You don't know either, do you. Why it's 'Leffa'. It's not like I'm elephantine. "ID Cores are assigned by the Desire Grand Prix's staff according to the user's personality and behavior." It's rote recitation of a rule. So, no--Tsumuri herself likely doesn't know. Someone else? Yeah, probably. Of course, that raises its own questions. I have a gym membership, you know. Tsumuri blinks owlishly at Jinako. I'll accept this blessing and show up, if you try one of these. The Navigator turns around, hands balled into fists, and looks up at the sky in one swift motion, her black boot stamping on the ground as she utters a sharp sigh. Finding no answer from the stretch of idyllic sky, she turns around and extends her hand. "Give it here," she requests, exasperated, taking from Jinako's second left arm without bothering to question why she has two of them. Is that normal, where she's from, or is she just that dedicated to the professionalism? She tries it. After the first bite, her eyes widen. Umai! Forgetting her professional exterior for a moment, she clears her throat and dons it again. "This, for that," she repeats. "Please don't be late for the summons, when it arrives."
BB	"And you're not staff?" Jinako asks, mild. Is she? Is she not? Convenient dodge? Not her department? The cowardly elephant woman isn't lacking in observational ability, intelligence, or even the blessings of luck and foresight. She's just trimmed in yellow. The whole show is cute, and very giving, an unvarnished and beautifully cherishable performance of real emotion only curtained by the slightest turn away. 'Wow, she's like an idol!' is the exptression Jinako wears, a soft and happy surprise at the stampy gumpy. Tsumuri takes from the second arm, and Jinako's smile becomes deeper, cheekspread, wide. "Sure." There is a snap, like canvas unfurling, or an umbrella being opened. There's a shape, like an umbrella-pole, right behind? above? about? Jinako, but-- The eye wants to fall away. The mind doesn't like having to update this fast. Suddenly - thinking/expecting/knowing - a trick has been played. There is a particular shade of pink that Jinako and her ID core share, but none of it is in the parts a human would close their eyes and expect on her. Nor the tusk-and-a-half like horns from high on her head, or the elephant trunk arched like a headdress - on a whole elephant's head, glassy-eyed but still apparently aware. To either side of her head, soft sail-ears waggle with a little Indian affective chinwaggle that seems to bear on her with a natural flow and expressive honesty. Affirmation, and-- Four armed, her second right arm reaches around to close fist around the driver and core, symbolically as anything -- and prize the ID core out to draw to her. Despite her tank top and jeans remaining, rings adorn each finger and a complex array of gold bands wrap her neck in permanent-seeming array centered on a broach of gold ringed with white pearls of ivory. "Ah... Huh, this is like a Crystallized Lore. That's interesting. Does that mean anything to you?" Jinako asks, before. . . A very dark-skinned man on the street, broad of shoulder and fiery red of hair, having just gotten smoked in pedalbikes by a girl half his height and twice his fierce, storms down the street like a complete punk, kicking out each step and growling before seeing Jinako's (large ears and trunk) and stop to wave. "Hey! Miss Jinako! Come with me to the gym today, I'm feeling fired up!" He seems bright and honest about this, and seems very chummy with Jinako, but... didn't even notice her until the ears came out. "T-Tomorrow, Asva!" Jinako begs, causing the broad shouldered stranger to recoil performatively in a cascade of red and disking. "You say that every day!" "And you are fired up every day!" A fried ball is hucked at 'Asva', who moves swiftly and gamely to catch it in his mouth and end up laughing fullmouthedly, trotting off down the street with much greater cheer. Jinako sighs, returning fully to Tsumuri. "Anyway - uh... Rider? And a company phone...? Did you recruit me for you agency?" Jinako immediately becomes just mildly uncomfortable. "I'm managed, but..." A flash of BB haunts Jinako, and she swallows hard. "... nevermind. This for that." She affirms.
Desire Stars	Huh, this is like a Crystallized Lore. That's interesting. Does that mean anything to you? Tsumuri's head tilts ever so slightly to the side. It's an affectation of curiosity, but not necessarily an admission of ignorance. Asvatthaman's brief interjection is enough for her to look, with that same measured quality, just so over her shoulder that she might be aware of him, without fully taking her attention off of Jinako. ... nevermind. This for that. The Navigator nods, waiting for Jinako's 'friend' to depart fully before she explains any further. "An agency... isn't quite what the Desire Grand Prix is. Rather, it's a production, put on to source and compensate Kamen Riders for their help in saving the world. As an added perk for your service, DGP equipment is available to you even during interstitial time between Jyamato appearances. The DGP staff wish to encourage behavior conducive to battling Jyamato, and may even award equipment for commendable conduct outside of battles against Jyamato, so be sure to keep your Spider Phone close by." She offers a curt little bow at the waist. "Do you have any additional questions at this time?" He head perks slightly forward, and she stands a little straighter.
BB	Asvatthaman certainly checked Tsumuri out. He was also surely sent packing by the hurtling huck of an offering-ball. Balance, in home and life. Jinako sets down the Rider swagbox and the plate of fried balls, holding ID core in lower-right hand. Having accepted it as hers, she lacks any leverage to continue bargaining for treasures and times, and Tsumuri seems to be trying to wrap up their engagement. "So..." Jinako trails in, tilting head back. A 'nasal' chuff-exhale from her headdress' trunk toots a softly elephantine noise. "... If I want to 'be a Kamen Rider', I'll need to play along. And it's for saving the world?" Softer, more understanding, but also, more direct - to Tsumuri. "Do you want to know what a Crystallized Lore is?" While her lower arms fold into a low cross, right lower hand closed around the ID Core granted to her, her upper two close together in a clasp, and slowly open. Jinako peeks between the pink spilling cherry-scented light in her palms, tightens her thumbs, nods, and presents it out: Emitting a pink-white light, a deeply colorful rainbow of bismuth-like cubical crystal, like something truly small had been expanded and captured whole-light into a glittering light-transmuting semicube. Despite glowing, visually trembling ever-so-slightly, and being suddenly summoned to hand it is deeply silent in its exuded power-state. It promises... understanding, with but a touch. It whispers secrets, intimate to ear, just at the glittering-silent light it warps out. "Notice a resemblence?" Jinako asks, but her real question is more a suggestive order. 'Touch it'! She can just touch it, and know.
Desire Stars	Bismuth is a captivating thing, for someone who's never seen it before. Although the Navigator would never admit it, she's grateful for having been shown--present in the light of her eyes, utterly independent from the pink glow of the Crystallized Lore. Touch it...? It would be satisfying, wouldn't it? A brand new experience, to say nothing of the understanding it promises, and the secrets it might whisper. For a moment, Tsumuri forgets both herself and Jinako, lost in a world of possibility. Her hand hovers in the space between herself and Jinako, tantalizingly close, yet hopelessly far. It falls, as do Tsumuri's eyes, in time with a soft sigh through the nose. "Things like this are inappropriate for a Navigator," she says, with quiet resignation. "Please feel free to avail yourself of the Desire Temple, for any refreshments, recreational or training purposes. Access is granted by your ID Core." With that, she offers a little waist-bow of farewell, turning and leaving Jinako with the Crystallized Lore, and her new Rider gear alike. Could there be a me who would have accepted? Maybe. Maybe that Tsumuri will exist sooner than this one realizes. For now, the Navigator disappears down a corner, and is promptly whisked away by a rising column of blue pixellated light.
BB	Tsumuri, is as herself, alone in a room, white or black, here or there. She gazes upon a captivating light, held floating in a palm//a room//all space//the cosmos. She reaches towards the Crystallized Lore, which whispers to eyes, ears, tongue and nose, promises. Jinako watches the innocent reach, the pure desire towards a promise - possibility - loud Truth. Lore. So sweet a taste, the promise of gentle and price-less knowing. The price came from the hand. As Tsumuri's hand falls, Jinako's hand turns and drops at the same pace, a door closed in symmetry on an offer made and refused. "Okay." Jinako -- elephant earless, headdressless, rings and bandless, normal 'human' Jinako -- states with a little nod, and a disappointed professionally smile. It almost isn't right on her face, but then again, her soft face is perfect for these gentler offers. Blessings for nothing - a spill, just because she was moving about. "I'll avail myself, then, Tsumuri the Navigator." Jinako confirms, as Tsumuri turns to leaves, and the enigmatic glasses girl moves to open back up her laptop with her left hand... And grab one last fried ball with her (a) left hand, popping it into her mouth to chew. "Desire Grand Prix... and Kamen Rider, hah? Well... You were totally wrong, BB! Ha, someone thought I wasn't cringe!" She challenges the sky of Luluhawa. The sky is too hungover to pettily respond.