Tomoe was strolling through Marigold when he came across a rather eye-catching piece of paper stapled to a wall outside one of his regular taverns. He was planning on getting drunk – just absolutely pasted – that day, but his curiosity was piqued. It was some kind of public invitation to come see a spectacular show like no other, or so it claimed. It made bold claims like that it would inspire viewers to do better in their lives and that it would show them their true selves. It would be a performance that would stir the heart and revive lost passion. With claims like that, what else could Tomoe do aside from check it out? There was no harm in simply following up on some rather bold and daring claims to see how true they turned out to be, was there? “Not at all.”, Tomoe muttered to himself, ripping the advertisement from its placed location and crumpling it into his pants' pocket before heading for the address listed.

The address in question was none other than the Marigold Theater. Of course it was. Where else would somebody go to find such success in a place so otherwise lacking in population and exposure? Though from Tomoe's own experience, the success rate was rather iffy. Some performers made it well in the world and received amazing support from those around them to carry them further in their careers. But others? Hoo boy, there were some real failures among those who performed at the Marigold Theater. From one guy who got decapitated one time, to another who was horribly crippled beyond all recovery, to the various other stories of disgusting mutilation out there, it was no mystery that this place was absolutely ghoulish.

There were probably a decent number of vengeful spirits of dead performers, brutally murdered, wandering the halls of the building. What a vile, dangerous and irresponsible place that Tomoe had absolutely no part in harming the reputation of. Zero percent of the blame was on the crimson cutthroat, who found himself in front of the theater after a brief ten or so minute walk from the tavern he had previously been in front of. After a moment of wondering whether he should turn back, he ultimately went inside.

---

WC: 379/2,500

“This better be good. I was gonna get black-out wasted and get into a few good ol' barroom brawls. Better not walk in here expectin' a mind-blowing show and leave after seein' a guy prance around in tights and cry for ninety minutes. If I wanted that, and I don't, there's probably already a few bars around for way cheaper than that.”, Tomoe stated plainly with a bored face to a young, pimply, scrawny ticket booth guy who had alternated between several looks of concern and confusion during the rant.

“Um, sir... y-you're here for Songstress Saya, yes? This is a theater, not a... a-a pub or a prostitution ring or anything of that sort. Would you be able to leave that... vulgarity at the door, kindly, please?”

As the youth spoke he was clearly frightened to the point of nearly pissing a waterfall out his trousers, and occasionally looked down at his desk as if reading some kind of company protocol speech or something. Corporate, eh?, Tomoe thought, and then leaned in through the ticket booth window, completely shattering the idea of personal space as he glared at the boy closely with an expression in his eyes so aggressive that it could kill weaker men outright; the ticket boy himself seemed on the verge of such a thing.

“Buckle up, bucko, because I've got somethin' to tell ya there. I take my vulgarity where I want, when I want to, because it's mine. Ain't no way some corpy puppet with Mr. Bigwig's fingers up your ass and ticklin' your stomach, is gonna mess with me. I'll turn anythin' I feel like into a pub or a whorehouse, because that's my decision to make. Now because ya mentioned a girl's name and not some re-enactment of Lumberjack: Legend of the Tighty Whities, I'll let ya off easy this time. But don't you fuck with me. Nobody fucks with me and lives very long. Gimme those damn tickets, puppet, or I'll cut your strings.”

The booth boy, with an expression as if he had stared into the devil himself but unsure whether this was a situation he could handle by calling security or the town guards, froze in that moment. He thought he'd recognized the vulgar man's face but didn't realize it until just now. This was the man that had destroyed Penumbral Guard and was going around turning Marigold into his playground. There were no S-rank mages in town, no Wizard Saints, and no Rune Knights. Nobody would come to save him that could actually stop the problem. With that realization in mind...

“Y-Y-Y-Y-Yes, sir! Right away, sir! For my inconsiderate behavior, this ticket will be on the house! I'm so sorry! Please, I have a family...!”, the booth boy cowered as he quickly produced a ticket and held it out to the unimpressed Tomoe.

---

WC: 854/2,500

With a single fluid motion, Tomoe swiped the ticket from the boy's hand with speed, precision and strength, and read it over. His features turned from sour to sweet as he returned his gaze to the boy and gave him a small bow. “The high seats, too? For free? Damn kid, you're spoilin' me! With customer service like that, I might even find myself back for some more shows in the future, if ya keep givin' me that price. I'll give this place some good reviews, don't worry. Thanks, corpy!”, Tomoe said with a combination of appreciation and underlying malice, gave a sly wink, and moved away from the ticket booth towards the seat he was assigned further inside.

Inside, the place was absolutely exploding with popularity. It wasn't quite a full house, as these were dark times in Marigold with the recent destruction of the local guild and a group of lunatics on the loose running around like they owned the place. What dastardly villains they were. Tomoe could only hope they got caught soon. Thoughts and prayers, and all that. He took a seat and awaited the show's start.

However, something seemed wrong, all things considered. More so than usual for Marigold's new standards, anyway. It was almost showtime, but some employees were moving around and whispering in confusion among themselves. There was an air of uncertainty in the air, and there was clear anxiety among the staff of the theater. Something unfortunate had happened – a late arrival, perhaps? The star was nowhere to be seen despite her shining moment almost arriving. This Songstress Saya was presumably a performer of some decent renown, so surely she wasn't the type that was late for her own show. Slackers in this industry didn't last, so for her to be a name that at least some would recognize meant that she had been diligent and talented enough to not screw things up for at least a while. And judging by the posters of her face inside, she was pretty beautiful, too...

Tomoe rose from his seat and made his way out of the theater, sneaking away unnoticed – or perhaps nobody cared. Either was fine with him. The Joyan stared into the night sky above for a moment, disappointed that it seemed as if the girl was absent. What an anti-climactic ending. That was up until Tomoe's head cocked to the side in reaction to a sudden cry of terror. Off to the left, in the alley behind the theater, the sound of a woman in trouble echoed. There was nobody else around aside from Tomoe within shouting distance, so perhaps he'd need to play the “hero” role...? Eh, probably not. But he'd see how things looked when he got there.

---

WC: 1,315/2,500

What he saw mere seconds later furrowed his brow. Not in the kind of way where one would get into a stance and go, “Alright, time to get serious!”. No, no, it was more like, “Really? This is how we're doing this?”. Before Tomoe's eyes was a woman dressed in exotic Desiertan dancer's garb with hair as dark as night and eyes yellow like a cat's. Though in between him and her, a man had pulled out a dagger and was slowly closing in on her, backing her up further down the alley. This really was cliché, wasn't it?

“Hey, buddy, I'm no knight or do-gooder or anythin', but this isn't how ya get an autograph y'know? Requires a bit 'o manly charm, and you've pretty well and truly fucked that part up already. Best call it quits, yeah?”, Tomoe called out as he walked into the alley, keeping himself alert in case this was a trap for some hot-headed kid with a hard-on for justice; this world produced a heap of those, after all.

As he descended further into the alley's shadows, though, there was no such trap sprung. Instead, the blade-wielding thug turned with a zombie-like gaze to look at Tomoe. He almost seemed feral in his movements, and clearly took offense to the Joyan's words. It probably wasn't anything in particular, but more like Tomoe in particular just pissed the guy off right off the bat.

One look at the samurai's smug expression and calm demeanor as he proceeded further towards him unarmed was all it took to set the alley assaulter off. “Yeah? And what've you got on you? You travel light or are those pockets heavy? I'll rob both of ye blind and then have a good time with the gal! Piss off, first and only warning!”, the thug responded in the exact way Tomoe knew he would; it was almost like poetry, except with the smell of sun-dried dumpster trash, piss and shit and a lot lighter on the part where emotions happen.

Sigh.

With a single flash of magic from Tomoe's palm, a bow that wasn't anywhere on him had appeared in his hands. The next moment, the man had stumbled towards him in a panic with his dagger turned towards the red challenger instead. The moment after that, the thug was on the ground, squealing in pain like an animal who wanted nothing more than to die and join the choir invisible, with an arrow through each of his kneecaps. “Go on, beg. It's funnier when ya beg first. Let your choices sink in and then die with 'em. If ya apologize, I might even consider NOT nailin' your nuts to the door of my favorite Marigold tavern.”

---

WC: 1,770/2,500

Tomoe leaned down in a squat, one foot on the guy's throat and slowly adding pressure as seconds passed. Still somewhat inexperienced at archery, the Joyan had probably messed up somewhere along the way and hit a leg artery somewhere. Without medical treatment or healing magic, the bum wouldn't last more than another two minutes or so. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Tomoe possessed neither medical expertise nor any knowledge of healing magic. The clock was ticking for the mugging bastard, and if he didn't give out a 'sorry' any time soon, Tomoe would be forced to follow through with his continued torment of a particular pub in Marigold. It was funny to him, at least, and that was what mattered.

However, just as the man was about to open his mouth to speak, Tomoe's foot crunching down on his windpipe enough for him to almost be rendered unable, time stopped. Or at least, that was how it felt for the Joyan who just wanted a fun time. One moment the mugger's head was there, and the next it was paste on the ground. All Tomoe saw in between was a flash of purple light, and then the result before him. “Gross, there's a bit on my sandals!”, Tomoe exclaimed with disgust, rubbing the soles of his sandals off on the guy's torso before looking up to see the purple light again.

In a moment of instinct, Tomoe cast his Black Hole directly in front of him, using the bow he was holding as his casting catalyst to overcome his spell's casting motion. A purple blast of energy shot forward and was absorbed by the Black Hole, becoming consumed inside of it before the void would dissipate. Tomoe then held a murderous glare straight ahead, already aiming his bow down the alley. Down towards the woman. This was a change of pace that he only somewhat expected, but hadn't considered it to be a result that would actually occur. He'd need to actually stick around and see where this goes.

---

WC: 2,118/2,500

Spells Used:

“Songstress Saya. Your face is everywhere inside the posters in that theater. But none of those ads or posters said ya were a dark mage, or such a lover of head explosion. I'd almost say-”

“Murder and magic are two things a songstress needs to stay alive in this world. In a world that lets someone like you walk freely. In an alley like this, with a man like you? Or that filthy rat on the ground? I know exactly what people like you do. You flaunt your power for others to see, and mock the humble and honest livings of people simply trying to survive in a world plagued by vile and sadistic wizards like you. It isn't the Wizard Lords that will bring about Fiore's end. It's the common thugs and casual killers like yourself, whittling away at commoners day by day and ruining lives for pleasure or personal gain.”, Saya spoke, interrupting Tomoe without a care in the world.

Tomoe had to concede that he was caught off guard – this wasn't an ordinary performer like the ones he'd regularly encountered at Marigold Theater. This was somebody... with an air far different from anyone like the walking jokes he had seen leave that theater in pieces in the past. Or sometimes not at all. Depended on the day, really. Still, the woman was venting and had another aura of purple energy charging around her arm, pointing towards him, so he was content to let this rant play its course until he'd get another cast of Black Hole off so he could defend, charge in and end her.

“And yet... I find myself intrigued by you, Mr. Tanaka. You, who have been in Fairy Tail and abandoned. Penumbral Guard, which you destroyed and abandoned. But what I find most interesting is that blank spot in the middle that most know nothing of. Yes, the part where you were once a member of the Midnight Cult. That part... yes, it's that part I wish to know the most about. So I won't kill you tonight. Rather, I'll-”

This time, it was Tomoe's turn to cut her off. He rushed forward in a flash, and before she could unleash the spell wreathed around her arm, he was already point-blank with his bow trained on her head, a fiery hot arrow already drawn and ready to send forth. At the same time, however, her arm was pointing directly at his own head. It would be a gamble from this range, especially due to the speed at which her projectiles shot forth and their potency. It wouldn't be enjoyable for Tomoe to have his head turned to goo, certainly, but it's not like she'd get away unscathed either.

If this arrow hit her in her makeup-filled face, no amount of self-care would ever allow her to perform again unless it was as part of the freak show in a circus troupe. If she got through the vegetative state of an arrow from Rama's motherfucking Bow, that is. The tension got to a peak, and one of them had to speak.

---

WC: 2,500/2,500

“I won't say anything about it. Naturally, that's for you to do. As for how I know? You'll need to let me live, I suppose. Oh, but darling, you must know that I'm on in five. A man mustn't allow a lady to be late on her big night. That's just not polite, is it? Truth be told, I wanted to meet one of the villains that destroyed Penumbral Guard so I could see their depravity for myself.”

“And now that you've seen it? Whatcha thinkin'?”, Tomoe responded, a serious face, and not relaxing the grip on his bow at all and keeping his eyes fixed for the slightest movement to signify that he should blast her; no such movement came.

“Well, I want to know more, of course. What sort of thing brought you to this point? But first, I'll share some of myself. I will call a truce for tonight, and you'll of course agree, so let me play my role tonight and I'll pay you as proof of my honest intentions.”

The purple aura disappeared from Saya entirely, and she relaxed her posture. After a moment, Tomoe unwittingly lowered his own weapon. He didn't know why he did – he had no intention of letting her go at that moment, but he did anyway. As she disappeared through the back door of the theater with a final wink, Mr. Tanaka couldn't help but think that he'd lost in some way tonight. As his bow disappeared back into his ring, he left the alley and came around through the front entrance again. He didn't answer the booth boy when asked why he had left, and pushed onward towards his seat with a sour expression. The boy didn't dare question Tomoe further.

Tomoe then took his seat among nobility and other rich VIPs, who passed awkward glances towards him. It was only natural, after all. He ignored them once Songstress Saya took the stage in her full beauty and radiance. She sang of a tragic tale – perhaps of a Desiertan conflict? - and danced a foreboding, ominous and yet stunning dance that had the entire crowd enthralled. Her presence was very similar, somehow, to...

No, that couldn't be right. Stupid., Tomoe thought, his eyes glued to her every movement and to every magical special effect put on by the crew behind the curtains.

---

WC: 2,500/2,500

The story she told was a three part musical about a Desiertan flower girl who tried her best to bring peace to her country but met only with ruin. In act one, she was an idealist who protected a Joyan sakura tree in her garden, which was an inexplicable act of nature that nobody was able to explain.

In act two, internal conflict resulted in a civil war for control of the city she lived in. For the sake of her family and for the tree she had protected, she took up the art of magic to defend her people from themselves.

In act three, she had suffered defeat after defeat, barely escaping with her life each time, and turned to dark magic to shorten the skill gap between her and her enemies in the rebel faction. With this power she grew mad, and destroyed entire districts, blazing a path of death by herself. At the end of it all, she hadn't realized she had destroyed her own flower shop, focused only on the deaths of the rebel soldiers. It ends with her standing over the corpse of one of the enemy's generals, her brother who had risen in the ranks of the rebel faction, and cried herself into a deep slumber from which she would never awaken.

Tomoe was confused by the end, wondering how much of it was true. When she said she would 'share some of herself', was this what she meant? It was too much to think about for one night, though. As the performance wrapped up and she had said her goodbyes, an employee stopped Tomoe as he was getting out of his seat. Inside was a massive amount of jewels. Shocked that she had followed through on her promise, Tomoe looked down to the stage which was closing its curtains. She looked back at him, and right before the curtains would break their eye contact, she shot him a knowing glance and nodded her head.

This set Tomoe off, and he was tired of being confused and messed with tonight. Good faith? Good faith didn't pay the bills. He'd gotten some money, sure, but he hadn't gotten enough money. It was time to get ballsy with it, really push his boundaries with these people.

"Alright, time to hand over the rest of the money, bud. I know you got some on ya.", Tomoe said to the employee who handed him money, pulling out his bow.

Without even giving the man time to respond or think, an arrow shot through his skull and out the other side. Rummaging through his pockets to scavenge for loot, he barely heard the screams of panic from the guests who had, up to this point, held in their anxiety in Tomoe's presence. Picking up on this, disappointed with his haul, decided to end the night with a little tragedy of his own, Joyan criminal style. He got to work, blasting at the rich VIPs who dressed up all fancy to make it out here. He collected trinkets and jewelry, and Tomoe's lemur even came around to join in on the fun! Together they killed at least six or seven VIPs before the rest made it out, and that was definitely a good haul.

By the time he was done, he had made out like a bandit. This would definitely get him some prime drinks and maybe even some upgrades in his future. He gave a small high-five to his lemur, who was biting off some guy's fingers for food. Together, they exited, satisfied at the conclusion of their night. Tomoe would keep that woman in his mind, and look out for her should he hear of a songstress in the future.

---

WC: 2,500/2,500

- EXIT -