Cutscene: Under The Cold Streetlights

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Who: Shirou Sekigawa
Where: Sumaru City - Hirasaka Ward
When IC: Saturday, April 25, 2010
When OOC: 10/30/2010
Soundtrack Song: The Ecstasy of Gold by Ennio Morricone

Shirou trembled a bit, having run all the way from the Narumi Ward of Sumaru out to the Hirasaka Ward. And /man/ did he wish he hadn't. The much more run down section of the city didn't exactly make him feel safe. He kept to the shadows, avoiding the eyes of strangers, wishing he had his spear to protect him. Into an apartment complex he goes, running down the halls, trying to reach room 413.

Standing in front of the door, he reconsidered things for a moment. /Why/ was he doing this again? Why was he pushing himself to meet this man that he's never met? But the answer was clear to him. It was because he had questions, and questions needed answers. But more then that, it was because it was a part of his past that he needed some closure on. The ghosts of his fathers hung on his shoulders, and he needed to get them out of his life, lest they take over his life.

Opening the door, he found the apartment to be... fine. Instead of the mess he was expecting, there was nothing out of the ordinary. There was a thick layer of dust over the room, and Shirou waves his hand in front of his face as he looked around. Something did smell off... and it was as this point he realized that the electricity was out, and the smell was likely the food rotting in the fridge. "Guggg...."

Shuffling through his father's possessions, Shirou grew more and more frustrated. A stash of illegal drugs in the bedroom that he was smart enough /not/ too touch without putting on gloves. No information on his illegal operations... those were likely hidden away somewhere else. His computer was no use, given the lack of power. With a yell, he hit his hand on the desk, slumping into the chair.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he felt his consciousness slip away for a second, the anger and frustration draining his strength...

Opening his eyes again, he was briefly shocked to see the vaguely familiar view of a tree on a hill, everything bathed in blue.

"It's been a few short months since your last visit here, and already I can feel such tremendous change within you. But is it an artificial change brought by force? Or the intrinsic change that marks your tie to the Thirteenth Arcana, hmmm?" A familiar otherworldly drawl, as Igor grins his slasher smile, gesturing to a Cross spread of Tarot cards, already flipped up and revealed.

"I was expecting you to come much earlier, but this will have to do, given the short amount of time we have together. So many wands and pentacles and swords... but no Major Arcana. Your luck is better... last time things weren't going your way, hmm? But now, the things you've waited for are within your grasp... but I'd caution against being reckless..."

A laugh from the man, as Shirou dimly feels a hand on his shoulder, looking to see the sly smile of Margaret as she hands him another card. "But, I know full well that your blood boils hotly under that cold mask you wear... whenever will we see it come out? Perhaps this gift will symbolize that... the power of Pyro Jack will help you, just as your friends will... Now... the sleeper awakens, that's the line, yes?"

With a start, the boy awoke, hitting his knee on the desk as he looked around. He was back in reality, or at least, this reality. But perhaps because of how he hit the desk, one of the drawers was now open. Inside, a fairly large black envelope was sitting there, and in white text was Shirou's name... and the words: "If I Am Dead Or Missing". He froze for a few moments... before taking the envelope, as well as a key-card that sat next to it, the one that 'Midas Green' requested he find.

It wasn't until he had locked the apartment up, ran down the street as was half-way to Jitarou's apartment did Shirou dare look at the envelope again, as the harsh florescent light fell down on his shoulders, casting his shadow out in long lines in three different directions. He couldn't open it now, not tonight, not after everything...

He shoved it into his pocket. Maybe tomorrow.

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