~ Tнє Pαяα∂σχ Hσυѕє ~ now back to regularly scheduled chaos

(Sure! I'll get up a starter post shortly)

Hange | IKEA room | ®Hawkpath® and whoever else |

Lucifer's answer was quite vague, and Hange's mind immediately spun out into hundreds of related tracks, all packed with more and more clarifying questions that were on the tip of their tongue, all clambering for attention at once. Hange's mind could be a loud place, even for them, who had been coexisting with it since birth.

"I am a vampire," they replied, lifting their lip to show the long fang that extended down near their left canine. "See? I have fangs, can run faster than a human, jump higher, and I'm much, much stronger. More difficult to break, too - humans are quite breakable, although I'm sure you've noticed that, being one. I also require human blood to survive, although I have not found food to be entirely unpalatable in many circumstances since I was turned. Ah, anyway - "

CRASH.

Hange whipped around, eyes wide with curiosity, as a loud noise echoed from somewhere in the store, out of sight. It sounded like something had either fallen from a great height, or been knocked down.

"Ah...it seems we're not alone here..." they said, tilting their head in the direction of the noise. "I wonder...what could you be?"

Juuzou blinked in, holding an apple in one hand and spinning it with his other. He didn’t look up right away, completely focused on the fruit instead of the dramatic shift in his surroundings,
Finally, he looked up, and a grin spread over his features. “Ahhhh.” He said, peering around the room, which seemed to be some sort of office not unlike the one he had just left. There were people here, too, strangers. He saw a girl with a knife and his eyes focused on it, careful to track its movement as she held it out,
Impulsively, he took out his own knife as well, aimed, and threw it so that it should hit the wall next to the girl.
“Don’t scream.” He told her, coming a little closer, “I’m sure your poor dogs are just fine, back in your world. You’re just in the Paradox House. There’s no need to worry about anyone but yourself.”
He grinned, tilting his head at her. “Don’t tell me you’re new here...are you? What a pain, I have to explain it all to you.”

Juuzou | Powers Room | <Raintalon> and anyone

Juuzou didn’t break off his remark as the child lunged at him, even though she was remarkably fast and agile, more so than he’d been expecting. He danced backwards, pulling a second knife from his pocket and slashing at her, more for flare than actual intent to harm.
That would come with time.
“Oh.” He said, his surprise apparent in his tone. He dodged the attack, not as easily as he expected, yet still successfully. Years of practice tended to give good instinct.

“You actually know what you’re doing!” He exclaimed, excited. She was young, but competent, which made him want to see just how far she would go. He danced backwards, teasing her with lunges and feints, light on his feet and careful to make enough noise for her to follow. “Wait, don’t tell me...are you a ghoul?”

Juuzou | Power Swap Room | <Raintalon> and anyone

To Juuzou, that was exactly what this was. He ducked and dodged and evaded her more than he actually attacked, since he didn’t know what she was yet. She could be a ghoul, but he didn’t know that, and he wasn’t willing to kill her if she was human. He didn’t kill humans.

He kept talking.

“Aren’t you going to answer me, ghoul?” He baited her, trying to make her show her quinque, if she had one. Trying to make her mess up, all he needed was for her to mess up once, and he would have her. “What’s up with that? You think you can fool me just by keeping your mouth shut?” He leaned in dangerous close, and slashed again, this time aiming to miss her face. He didn’t want to hurt her before he knew what she was, and besides, he was mostly just messing around at the moment. Seeing her with the knife had excited him.

Juuzou | Powers Room | <Raintalon> and anyone

Juuzou has been expecting that.
He laughed as she attacked, dodging backwards and flipping his knife in his hand. She still hadn’t revealed her potential quinque...was she not a ghoul after all? Or was she simply hiding it?
He backed off, tilting his head at her like a curious bird, trying to figure her out. If she was a ghoul, his comments should have let her know that he knew what she was. So she should have proven him right by now.
Not a ghoul. Just a normal girl with impressive knife skills.
“You’re pretty good.” He told her, still dodging her attacks, but no longer making his own. “But you’re not a ghoul, so I don’t really want to kill you anymore. Wanna check out the room?”

Job Swap Room | L | strider

“Ah.” L said thoughtfully, looking at Orpheus. If that was true, then it was probably true as well that Orpheus was either from a different time or a different world than most. Since many of the people L knew had heard of English, he thought it was a safe theory that many of their worlds had things in common with his own. Perhaps that wasn’t the case with Orpheus.
“Yes, that’s understandable.” He agreed, nodding. “Thank you for your consideration. It doesn’t matter to me, however, so whatever you’re most comfortable with is perfectly fine.” He supposed that was sharing something about himself, but he wasn’t very worried about it. This being the House, it was unlikely it could harm him in any way not already accessible to the House. His main reason for keeping everyone at arm’s length in the House was simply his own comfort level.
“You are allowed to be proud of yourself, you know.” He remarked, turning his attention back to the music he was playing. It didn’t come naturally to him necessarily, but he did find it soothing. He wondered if that was why Orpheus did it so often.
The detective let himself get into the music a little bit, enjoying the sound of it washing over him. He didn’t intend to get too wrapped up in it, but it was music. It was hard not to get wrapped up in it. He didn’t consider himself a very musical person generally speaking, but he was willing to give it a try for this room.
“As can I.’ He agreed thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s interesting to see us attempt something we wouldn’t normally. It’s also a good way of getting us out of our comfort zone. Yes, I can see the appeal of this room.”
He glanced at Orpheus as the other man worked through the riddle impressively fast. He hadn’t really expected that. Not that he didn’t think Orpheus was smart, of course he thought he was smart, but he didn’t think that Orpheus was likely to be good at riddles. Evidently, he was wrong.
“That makes sense,” he said, a little surprised. “I might not have thought of that.”

Orpheus quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t question it. Whatever ambivalence L… Λ, now, he supposed (there was something about the fact that someone chose that name for L because it meant something, and it didn’t mean anything in Orpheus’ language that made him want to translate it)… felt about the name, it was his business why. It was, after all, just a name. Just. As far as Orpheus was aware, names were power.
“Hm?” He lifted his gaze, then glanced back up at the riddle he’d completed. “Oh. It… it wasn’t exactly an accomplishment. These riddles… they’re very similar for when you need to find the right word to fit in a poem, and when you sift through dozens of metaphors to find the one that slides in seamlessly with the point you’re trying to make. I think… perhaps the point is that there’s more of an overlap in our skills than we anticipated. Or at least… that I anticipated. Or assumed, or…” he blushed, realizing he was rambling. It didn’t seem like Λ minded, but he also didn’t want to bother him with thoughts he wasn’t’ interested in hearing.
He listened to the music, noting that Λ made very few mistakes. It was interesting, how quickly he took to it.
“You’re quite good,” he observed quietly. His eyes widened in surprise only moments later. He didn’t know how to respond to that. Surely Λ would have thought of it eventually, getting things to fit into place like puzzle pieces was – as far as Orpheus could grasp – what he did. The riddles couldn’t have been terribly different. Speaking of, a new one had appeared on the board.
“What can you catch but never throw?” Orpheus read aloud, glancing back at Λ. He figured the man would probably need to start on the lyrics of the song soon, which meant Orpheus needed to get through the riddles either more quickly, or start doing them silently.
“Feelings,” he tried, writing the word down on the board. Nothing happened. No new riddle appeared. “Heartache?” Nothing. “Cupid’s arrow?” No such luck. “The lingering melody of a song?” Long winded and overly verbose, but again nothing. “Oh,” Orpheus whispered quietly, his cheeks reddening. “The answer was far less metaphorical, was it not?” Sheepishly, he wrote “illness” down under the riddle.

l | Job Swap Room | strider

Just a name. Just one name, that is. He had plenty to go around. L, Ryuzaki, Λ….he was used to being called by many different names. It didn’t bother him. Why would it? Names, though powerful, were not always simple. He supposed his real name might have more power than the rest, but then, what was a real name? Wasn’t it simply whatever you chose it to be? He thought so, anyway. It wasn’t exactly a life or death situation, at any rate. He didn’t mind whatever Orpheus wanted to call him.
“I see.” He said, and he did. It made perfect sense. Of course it would be easy for a songwriter to figure out riddles. That’s what they did all day anyway, wasn’t it? Orpheus may even have had an advantage over L in that case. L was good at figuring out people. He thrived on mysteries, puzzles, things he could work through in his head, but riddles? They required a relationship with words. They were puzzles, yes, but they were also something else. They were something like poetry. Something like the lyrics of a song. Something L didn’t necessarily have the same handle on as Orpheus did. And he was okay with that.
The music, however, was surprising to him. He found it soothing, gentle, and he enjoyed it. He didn’t want to stop. L continued to play, nearly forgetting about the lyrics he was supposed to be learning, and instead focusing on the notes. He glanced at Orpheus to see how well he was doing, and his eyes widened a little at the compliment.
“Thank you.” He said sincerely. “Coming from you, that means a great deal. However, don’t say it if you don’t mean it. I wish to improve, and that requires any criticism you may feel inclined not to state.”
He glanced at the riddles again, noting the new one. “Catch but never throw?” He murmured, almost forgetting the music. “Ah…” he looked down again, remembering, and looked at the lyrics. “I suppose I’ll need to start singing, then.”
He hummed, testing his voice. Then, softly, he began to sing, low at first, then gaining speed. He was nowhere near as good as Orpheus was. But he was on key, and the notes seemed to come from somewhere deep inside of him. He closed his eyes, letting himself fall into the music, and almost forgetting Orpheus was there at all.

Orpheus looked back up at the riddles he’d completed, happy to see they seemed to fit together. The answers fit the questions, and though some were more poetic than others, they were all… words. Words were easier to figure out than people, though Orpheus supposed both he and L devoted their lives to figuring out people. It was just that Orpheus figured out what made people feel things, and Λ figured out what made people do things. Orpheus wondered distantly if their particular skills would be useful in the other’s situation. Probably, he decided.
He was easily distracted by the way Λ continued to play. He really did have a surprising mastery over the notes of the song despite having far less experience than Orpheus himself.
“I don’t… I don’t see the point in false praise,” he answered after a moment. “Besides, I’m spectacularly bad at lying. If you want genuine critique, I’m… I’m happy to give you some pointers after this room. I don’t think the House would appreciate me interfering now. There’s not much to adjust, anyway.” He sat back, ignoring the riddle board as Λ began to hum. And then sing.
Oh. That was… unexpected. Orpheus allowed himself to smile a bit, leaning against the wall as he listened to the music. Λ was good, really good. Not professional by any means, but then again, neither was Orpheus. His new “job” was the first time his employer had ever taken note of his music at all. He let his eyes close for just a moment before he opened them to watch the way Λ held himself as he sang. It was translated by the House, of course, but Orpheus could see the difference in language by the way Λ formed his vowels. It was… interesting. Orpheus wished he could hear the song in the language Λ was actually singing in, but that wasn’t going to happen. He was content with this, for now.
Another riddle had appeared on the board, and Orpheus figured Λ wouldn’t appreciate Orpheus prolonging their time in this room by getting distracted by the way Λ sang. He turned quietly, letting most of his attention stay on Λ and the music, but focusing at least part of it on the riddles. He breezed through one or two more before he heard the song getting close to its finish. Still almost silent, he turned to watch the last couple of notes.

If Orpheus were able to hear Λ’s thoughts, he would have agreed. Music – melodies, rhythms, tempo – all of that was about numbers. It didn’t change. It followed a formula of what sounded good together. Even sound waves, which his world didn’t have the technology to understand yet, were based on numbers and vibrations. Of course you could bend the rules to change up a song, and what one person thought sounded nice might not sound as pleasant to another, but there weren’t quite so many variables as there were with words and people. But he couldn’t hear Λ’s thoughts, all he could hear was the music, and wasn’t that close enough? Of course, Orpheus would have been able to learn more about Λ if it had been a song Λ himself had chosen, but the way he played was certainly an indicator of who he was. Not that Orpheus would say so out loud. Λ didn’t want to be known, and Orpheus had to respect that.
His attention turned fully back to Λ when the wrong note hit his ears, but he didn’t say anything. It had been a long time since he’d accidentally played the wrong note, but he could remember Apollo’s patience whenever he did. The way the god would gently guide his fingers back onto the right strings. If he were teaching Λ he would have done the same, but verbally. The correction came quickly, though, and he gave an encouraging smile.
“I get the feeling riddles are very different from mysteries,” he murmured after a long moment. “I also get the feeling you’d be solving these a very different way.” He glanced at Λ momentarily. “I’d love to hear how you think through them, if you… don’t mind.” Was that a thing most people offered freely? Their thought process? Orpheus didn’t know. He felt incredibly out of his depth in the House, and he wanted to keep this friendly back and forth they had found… well, friendly. He’d never had a friend before.
He was enjoying the music. Λ’s voice wasn’t perfect, but Orpheus didn’t mind. It wasn’t like his own was perfect either. Perfect music would sound… inhuman. Disturbing. It would suck all the life out of it, and that’s what a song was to Orpheus: life. Λ was doing a fantastic job breathing life into this one.
Orpheus didn’t think to be worried about the House throwing a curveball at them. He was too new, too unfamiliar with it. He was just aware that this was a kind room, and he wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible. Besides, the riddles were rather fun.