alittlerampage | (no subject)

Alisaie hates working at Stickyroll. Swirlybun. Swirlyroll. Whatever it’s called, they make her stow her rapier in her employee locker, and she has to wear this ridiculous visor, and ‘non-slip sneakers’ and ‘employee uniform’ instead of her usual attire. But needs must, and they require money for their apartment, small though it is, so here she is, dressed in her finest food service garb and lamenting to Alphinaud how frustrating it is to constantly repeat ‘Thank you for shopping at Swirlyroll, have a swirl of a good day!’

“It’s demeaning is what it is,” she’s saying, not for the first time even this week. “And what even is a swirl of a good day? It’s nonsense. We need to find other work.”

She’s still going, her visor pushed up so it doesn’t squash her fringe to her brow, when she sees the creature up ahead. It looks similar to the Voidsent that Abby had killed, knife and all, and Alisaie gasps and grabs Alphinaud’s arm.

“Look! It’s another of those creatures.” They’d each seen one before, though they’re still so unlike the Voidsent they know from Eorzea or the Sin Eaters of the First. Seeing it lumbering and stumbling towards a shimmering rift has Alisaie’s sense of adventure stirring. She looks at Alphinaud, her eyes sparkling.

“We should follow it,” she says. She doesn’t wait for his response. In her horrendous black non-slip sneakers, she gives chase, drawing her rapier as she goes.

The creature vanishes ahead of her, the rift rippling with its passing, and Alisaie leans into her sprint. The shimmer ripples around her as she passes through it as well, and as she steps through she sees…

The exact same thing she’d seen a moment ago.

No, not exactly. The creature is still there, yes, and so is Darrow, but it’s… different. Its mien is utterly filthy, broken and ashy, cut through with tentacles and heavy motes not unlike those they’d seen on Valentine’s Day. She skids to a stop — nearly pitches forward when her non-slip sneakers hold fast against the ground as intended — and lifts her crystal and sword, ready for anything.

Threaded | Flat

As is to be expected, Alphinaud has a relationship with the Swirlyroll and its totalitarian regime, administered by the ever sharp-eyed Linda, that complements that of his sister's-- similar and yet not a true reflection. He hardly minds a uniform (though he truly wishes it were a more flattering outfit), and fussing over the small details, now that he knows how best to mind them, satisfies something deep within him.

A true pity they cannot keep their weapons closer, that is an opinion shared with Alisaie, for the food court is an ever-changing sea of personalities and quarrels. Beefs, their colleague Krystal has named them, these problems that are perhaps more shallow than the geopolitical problems he's used to solving-- and yet no less intense.

He's been expecting another day of gooey pastry and bringing empty trays to sparkle when the creature appears. There's barely a moment to spare, to recognize the look of it from that night in the woods, before he's once again running after Alisaie as she plunges headlong into danger.

And then he careens into her, just barely keeping himself standing as he takes in the new world around them. "What is this place?" he asks, turning to what must have been their doorway, only to find it gut-droppingly closed.