In the central park, sitting propped up against a tree is a fairly old man. However, despite his apparent age, the man is built like a tank. He has a clearly confused look on his face as he glances around before closing his eyes for a moment in meditation before he stands slowly, rubbing a shoulder as he does.

"I know not what this place is... but I'm apparently not as dead as I had thought... but still... ...that presence..."

Crow Jane, fittingly enough, doesn't mind crows at all. What most people view as a noisy pest, she tolerates, and even encourages, spending much of her time in the parks feeding them. Not the pigeons, those poop machines could find plenty of others to mooch off of. In this city, birds have extremely good memories.

So, really, it comes as no surprise to her when the first few crows land near her. She lounges on a park bench, watching Jenny play with a pair of hobbits on the playground. Her fetish, a black, triangular device with a thunderbolt within an eye engraved upon it, is open and projecting the image of a man with a headpiece on. He rambles on about various activities involving people with names like 'Maul', 'Fahrenheit', and 'The Engineer', while she leans her head back and closes her eyes. More birds land near her, fluttering their wings restlessly as they land on her shoulders and legs.

Jane sighs and reaches into the bag at her side, tossing out some popcorn. Even on her off time, she can never quite escape from work. Maybe she just needs a distraction?

It had been a considerable amount of time since Akuma had disappeared over the edge of the world, in the Cemetary of Dead Melodies. Of course, when one does so by choice as opposed to accident, there's an actual chance of coming back... After all, one simply had to cling to the bottom of the entire Clockwise structure, hanging out over the space between universes and risking a fall should a single placement of hand or foot prove ill-chosen.

Some people might wonder why anyone would be so stupid as to attempt something like this deliberately, but then again? Some others might simply reply 'Because it's there.'

And Akuma always did like a challenge.

Still, taking the long way across may not have been the wisest of courses... especially when he had to work his way around the sewer drainage systems, ugh! The smell CLUNG to the entire area, lingering in his nostrils for far, far too long afterwards. Even so, nothing the Master of Fists couldn't handle.

Although, the addition of ballistic books flying around certainly kept him on his toes. Having to work out dodging techniques and methods in those circumstances was certainly no picnic, but after hauling himself up over the lip at the opposite end of where he started? He had to admit, he was glad he gave it a try.

Now, where was he? The books all seemed to be headed here, beginning to nestle themselves into shelving marked with numerals... 741.5 here, 286.13 there, 'Fic' on the next one over- Library. Of course!

Even if that didn't explain why the books were independently FLYING. It's a weird place, obviously weird things are going to happen.

After a trial like that, with nary a pause for rest or (more importantly) food, even Akuma was ready for some recuperation... So as he headed out of the library's front door to find himself completely lost, all he really had on his mind was finding a place to sit and have a bite to eat.

What could go wrong?

There is an event up in the OOC community. You may want to check it out.

Things do indeed move behind the massive junkyard behind the Great Golden Dragon. However, for today at least, it's not due to some sinister intelligence. Rather it's because of a man carrying parts of various motorcycles he's found over to a small, clear area.

In the middle of that area is a red and white motorcycle, with the engine removed and disassembled, spread across several sheets. Tools lay scattered about the area as well. It's a kind of organized chaos that Hongo Takeshi only adds to when he puts several more parts down. He settles into a cross-legged position, holding up a cylinder and peering through the center before setting it aside to examine another piece.

He puts a lot of stress on the machine, and the parts need replacing every once in a while. It just so happens that this place has quite a few things in good condition lying around, waiting to be junked. The man himself is mostly silent as he works, but he probably wouldn't mind someone to talk to.

Alethia closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, enjoying the smell of her dinner after the waiter, an oddly dignified kobold, sets it down in front of her and wanders off to take an order from another guest. She's seated at a table in front of an expensive looking restaurant, with a steaming plate of steak and vegetables in front of her.

She's the only one eating outside. All of the other people, dressed in their finest fripperies to enjoy such an expensive eatery, stay indoors. She, dressed in a plain, dark blue business suit, doesn't seem to fit in with that crowd. They speak of running businesses, family inheritances, what new things they've heard about in town.

They bore the Turk. She prefers to feel the wind in her hair and explore her settings, not listen to rumors. Perhaps later, she'll return with one of her finer dresses, but for now? Well, she can eat outside and not fall asleep listening to their repetitive ramblings.

There's a seat open in front of her. Who knows, she might welcome some unsolicited company.

Walking through a ghetto that seemed to be designed by M.C. Escher and commissioned by Cthulhu, the demon glared. Yet another nonsensical twist, even more ridiculous architecture and creatures unlike anything he had ever-wait.

That tower, off in the distance; that looked actually recognizable! Almost like it was built according to something vaguely similar to the laws of physics! Naturally, he set off for it at a dead run.

Reaching the square before it, he began surveying the area. Were there any to be found who could explain this?

An old town. Narrow streets covered in cobblestone, faint memories of past events scratched into every single rock by the hand of time. The giant clock tower cuts through the sky and conceals the sun, leaving behind nothing but faint rays of sunlight. A simple and beautiful sight.

It is a world he had never experienced before, or so he feels inclined to believe. Ether makes a small step forward. His boots echo against the ground, the black coat rises a bit in the end and then everything returns to the silence from several moments ago. Only the wind and faint sounds of talking people seem to break through the tranquility of the town he suddenly finds himself in.

He sighs, shakes his head and begins to walk forward. If there is anything worthwhile in this place, he is bound to find it sooner or later.

Sakura leans against a wall, reading a tattered piece of paper that had fluttered into her hands. A play from the theater. It didn't look too interesting, not to her, so she tosses it aside and lets it flutter on the wind as she continues down the street.

She'd arrived a few hours ago, and the natives had given her the rundown. The clock was responsible for her being here. She could go home if she wanted, and she'd even found the door she'd stepped through and checked to make sure. But something, probably the same thing that urged her to accept the chance to join that Starfleet Academy before she'd gone home and been trapped, urged her to stay here and explore for a little while. There was no telling what some kind of multiversal hub like this had in store for her.

The girl grins, rubbing her thumb under her nose, and stops to look at the softly glowing dial of the clocktower, visible all throughout the city. "Y'know. This really ain't that bad."