"What I want to know is, who are all these people who actually like clowns? Like, how are they still a thing? I hate them," Enokizu announced decisively to no one in particular. "I hate them more than..." He paused to review the exhaustsive mental list of things he hated. "I hate them more than creepy crawly things, and stale cake, and public transportation, and telemarketers, and when your favorite TV show gets unexpectedly cancelled even though the Blu-ray sales were strong." Eno gave a firm nod, sure that he'd managed to thoroughly articulate his position on clowns. People were always telling him that he didn't make sense and that he needed to explain himself, so he'd taken their advice to heart.
While the prospect of fighting monsters in an alternate dimension appealed to Enokizu, he knew that it was unwise to rush into battle without being fully prepared. So, he stopped for a moment to squint at his reflection in the rippled surface of a fun house mirror. Apart from the way the mirror stretched his body into something resembling a wet noodle, he looked good. Exactly how a phantom thief should look... unlike some of his fellow thieves who looked like rejects from a cosplay convention. Enokizu tossed his scarf over his shoulder, idly wondering if his outfit could be improved by a cape or whether that would just be overkill. Probably overkill. He adjusted his cap at a rakish angle, satisfied that he was now looking awesome and ready for action.
"What were we talking about? Clowns, right? Yes. Let's punch some clowns."
III
Enokizu had never liked the police - not since his first run-in with an LAPD highway cop who'd fined him for driving without a license, even though it was really the DMV's fault that he didn't have a driver's license in the first place. So what if he'd failed the vision test? He was an excellent driver! He'd never hit anything that was alive, and that was really all that counted, right? It was just more proof that they were living in a fascist police state.
Now the fascist police state had caused a massive traffic jam with their blockade, and there seemed to be little hope of Enokizu's bus ever arriving. He'd decided to walk, only to run into even more yellow tape and traffic cones. It was difficult to tell whether the heavily armed officers were trying to keep people out or keep something in. Whatever the reason, the police response seemed wildly excessive... and they weren't even attempting to deal with the traffic or with the increasingly restive crowd.
"Hey! What's going on in there!?" He pushed his way through the crowd, approaching the cordon. "You can't just leave people stranded out here!"
Reijirou Enokizu | Hyakkiyakou
"What I want to know is, who are all these people who actually like clowns? Like, how are they still a thing? I hate them," Enokizu announced decisively to no one in particular. "I hate them more than..." He paused to review the exhaustsive mental list of things he hated. "I hate them more than creepy crawly things, and stale cake, and public transportation, and telemarketers, and when your favorite TV show gets unexpectedly cancelled even though the Blu-ray sales were strong." Eno gave a firm nod, sure that he'd managed to thoroughly articulate his position on clowns. People were always telling him that he didn't make sense and that he needed to explain himself, so he'd taken their advice to heart.
While the prospect of fighting monsters in an alternate dimension appealed to Enokizu, he knew that it was unwise to rush into battle without being fully prepared. So, he stopped for a moment to squint at his reflection in the rippled surface of a fun house mirror. Apart from the way the mirror stretched his body into something resembling a wet noodle, he looked good. Exactly how a phantom thief should look... unlike some of his fellow thieves who looked like rejects from a cosplay convention. Enokizu tossed his scarf over his shoulder, idly wondering if his outfit could be improved by a cape or whether that would just be overkill. Probably overkill. He adjusted his cap at a rakish angle, satisfied that he was now looking awesome and ready for action.
"What were we talking about? Clowns, right? Yes. Let's punch some clowns."
III
Enokizu had never liked the police - not since his first run-in with an LAPD highway cop who'd fined him for driving without a license, even though it was really the DMV's fault that he didn't have a driver's license in the first place. So what if he'd failed the vision test? He was an excellent driver! He'd never hit anything that was alive, and that was really all that counted, right? It was just more proof that they were living in a fascist police state.
Now the fascist police state had caused a massive traffic jam with their blockade, and there seemed to be little hope of Enokizu's bus ever arriving. He'd decided to walk, only to run into even more yellow tape and traffic cones. It was difficult to tell whether the heavily armed officers were trying to keep people out or keep something in. Whatever the reason, the police response seemed wildly excessive... and they weren't even attempting to deal with the traffic or with the increasingly restive crowd.
"Hey! What's going on in there!?" He pushed his way through the crowd, approaching the cordon. "You can't just leave people stranded out here!"