the girl with the golden voice

The intrepid narrator feels like she notices someone coming up on her personal space--she whirls, smile friendly yet somehow...it is hard to pin down her true feelings! With a rakish grin she invites the intruder into the domain of the SHSL Narrator, Ameya Matsura. Currently affiliated with Archive of Despair 2. (Game defunct.)

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

in which the narrator prepares for the dark secrets episode | Rumi

[vrumivrumi]

Audience? Yes. Captive? Not really. She came there out of her own volition, sat down out of her own volition, and spoke to Ameya out of her own volition. That head tilt was making her uncomfortable, though, and obviously it made the Narrator uncomfortable too. The entire situation was just very uncomfortable.

Rumi soon became less tense, though. She was waiting for someone to ask her something like this. “Nah, I don’t have a tragic backstory!” she answered with confidence. “Those are usually reserved for the edgy characters who think friendship makes you weak. I, on the other hand, am a class act huggable cutie who thinks friendship is pretty great.” The waitress paused briefly, her hand over her heart. She quickly snapped out of her ‘moment’ though. ”Oh god. You might just be rubbing off on me.” She shook her head a little. Anyway…

"Wait wait wait wait Matsura-chan. You’re—Uh. Moving reeeaaally fast. Too fast for Ru-me, Nyoomi, even though one of my specialties is my ability to go fast. What you just said was like a tongue twister somehow pulled off perfectly and tongue twisters never make much sense themselves." Rumi took a few seconds to rub at her temple in confusion. So… Something about a scar, genre-savviness, (whatever the hell that was) and seriousness? Or was it unseriousness? That was a very important detail.

After a while, it did finally click that Ameya was talking about the scar under her own eye, but she wasn’t really sure what it meant. It was so… Tiny and insignificant to her appearance. She decided not to comment in favor of addressing her next question. “Well I’m not psychic,” she shrugged. “There could be something related to the fear rooms we encountered in the team challenge before the last one… Urgh.” Good job, Rumi. You reminded yourself of your own failure. “Sorry. But yeah, there are some people whose rooms seemed really personal to them? I mean, of course they’re all personal. But I mean extra personal. Like, stuff way beyond stage fright and… Haunted houses.” More shuddering. If there was one thing she wouldn’t miss about the world she had been used to, it was Halloween.

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"The Narrator prides herself on the ability to inject genre-savviness into the proceedings. They all have to be careful not to be Wrong Genre Savvy, however. Happy characters can still have a lot lurking under the surface, and it's better to assume though than to assume not, right? As Cotton-candy-kun just demonstrated to the detriment of the class. That dick," she muttered good-naturedly. "Either way, you will forgive her if she doesn't wanna assume anything about anyone, right? Like...Diva-kun and Fancy-chan and the various dudes formerly known as Dickbag-kun all obviously have hella issues, and maybe even Umami-kun, but if someone like Nyoomi-chan has a mysterious secret then it hits harder! Of course, it might also seem to bizarrely come out of nowhere, but..."

The end of the sentence fizzled out, and Ameya rubbed her face with both hands as though she was falling asleep on her feet. Which was ridiculous, because no matter who she was rooming with, she hadn't had any motives fucking with her head, and really had no reason to fear, right?

"She moves fast. She speaks fast. She could probably out-rap record holders if she wanted but that is kind of a boring pursuit and she's never liked rap overmuch anyway. Not enough to dedicate herself to SHSL pursuits, anyway. That's weird. ...Things are as important as people make them, anyway. Even when that's taken into account, The Narrator is kind of a secretless blank space anyway. What a boring pair we are. Well, she's barely a character, she doesn't have a lot to feel self-conscious about."

She dropped back into her seat with no further ado. Sure, Rumi was free to leave at any time, but a lot of character development was driven by people not leaving scenes they probably would have without the influence of curiosity or genuine care underneath their exterior. Putting people that had no reason to hang out together in certain situations at least made them have the conversations that everyone wanted to see. Not that she and Rumi were characters like that. Well, she had to wonder about the viewers. "It's a sad world we live in, Nyoomi-chan. If everyone gets a plot twist then it's overdone but then that means only a few can get super cool revelations out of it. And the rest of us are resigned to...comic relief."

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

in which the narrator prepares for the dark secrets episode | Rumi

[vrumivrumi]

Just as usual, the motive didn’t elicit much of a visible reaction from Rumi. Though she couldn’t help but feel a little concerned. Everyone has secrets, and now very apparent some more serious than others. She considered the possibility of Nagisa intentionally hiding his title from the start, so it wasn’t really a shocker when his secret was revealed. Some other parts of it got her thinking, though. What possible reason would he have for this? Who was that unseen dude? …What the heck were they even talking about? It did sound awfully shady.

“Ahhh mooou, this is hurting my head…” She probably needed to drink something. It was a rather easy mistake to make. Sometimes you’d get so preoccupied with stuff like skating around in circles and… Skating around in circles… That you forgot to stay properly hydrated. Even though there was tons of water all around her, she couldn’t actually drink any of it. Maybe she could grab herself something good from the kitchen. Ooh! A soda? Yeah, she could totally go for a soda!

And so Rumi set off for the kitchen. It took a considerably long amount of time, since she had to head aaaaaall the way to the first island from the third island. Even on her skates, she found herself bored and even more tired than before. In fact, the journey was so long that she even forgot why she was at the cafeteria in the first place.

"…Uh…"

Well, she was there already. She figured if she could look around, she’d see what she was looking for and remember right then. As fate would have it, her train of thought was interrupted again as she stepped into the cafeteria. The waitress looked at Ameya dumbfoundedly. A theory party? Sounded lame. Like study parties. In the end people would either start goofing off and having fun like at a real party, or get extremely bored. At least, that’s what she experienced. But besides that, Rumi wasn’t even sure why she was there in the first place. She plopped down in a seat close by.

"…So, er… Theories you say?"

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

At last, a captive audience! She felt like she'd been in response limbo for days and days, hearing that but not quite sure how to react. "The Narrator leans all the way back in her seat in Shaft Head Tilt fashion--anatomically possible but still weird and uncomfortable as hell--and waves in a much more regular fashion at the new arrival. Heyooo, Nyoomi-chan. She doesn't suppose you have something cool and terrifying in your tragic backstory, right? Those kinds of theories."

Stopping just before she toppled all the way over, she whipped back up into a normal sitting position. She still sat on the chair the wrong way around because that was how you demonstrated effortlessly that you were a cool kid. "Because, really, the amount of people who have secrets worth revealing is obviously going to be larger than the amount of secret slots there are. And all characters secretly need their past bee-ess dredged up for the good cheer of whoever anyway, right? So we oughta get started."

She couldn't possibly mean... "She can't even remember how well this works out in the past. The Hope's Peak game it didn't because it was a single all or nothing, but a one at a time thing means a ton of people are going to get nonsense out anyway, and also because she feels like she's in a shitty sequel where people are more willing to bend the rules. She stands up with an ominous clattering of chair, facing Nyoomi-chan with all...165 centimeters of her! With possibly an extra ten for hair voluminousness. And then she pokes at the scar under one eye, because serious scars and the seriousness attributed to genre-savvy people with unserious scars is serious business."

...Wait, she wasn't actually going to explain anything, was she. She just remained standing up, poking herself in the cheek, like she was poised on the precipice of some great speech but the teleprompter just broke. "So, is Nyoomi-chan gonna make a guess about who's coming next, or possibly a guess at what Dragon-Lady-chan assumes her biggest secret to be? Either way is probably gonna be really hilarious in hindsight."

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

in which the narrator prepares for the dark secrets episode | open

It wasn't like she hadn't been expecting this at some point or another. The Hope's Peak mutual killing had resulted in the exorcism of too many ridiculously dark secrets to count, and the Archive mutual killing's counterpart motive had just resulted in...embarrassment for the most part. But still, secrets had to be revealed by external sources to cause conflict, because it was boring when people pulled them out by themselves, right? It was the first rule of storytelling, and sure to cause so many interpersonal snafus later. She was so ready to dig deep into everyone's backstories, you had no idea.

In all honesty Nagisa's had caught her off-guard--but then again, you could never totally trust the talent-hiders, could you? So she'd made a mental note to track him down at some point, but could only assume that so many people were getting on his case right now, and that not much would be revealed beyond Aku-chan's intervention (just vague enough to make it apparent that lies were being told) anyway. What she really needed to do right now was get to the people that hadn't had anything revealed yet--because who knew what kind of awful secrets people had, and who knew what kind of people had absolutely nothing to hide? The only thing that could help make that distinction was the fear game. Maybe that said something about her more than anybody else.

Still, radiantly unconcerned like she was the most open person in the world, she decided to hunker down in the kitchen, the most public place she could think of, in the interim between secrets, just waiting for someone else to come in...and occasionally talking to herself.

"The Narrator wonders aloud if she's on the agenda anytime soon. Not because she's hiding anything important, but to prove she's not hiding anything important. Serious revelations are only for player characters anyway, didn't you know?--Ahhh, wait, is that the door she hears? Don't be shy, she's just having a theory party in here!"

[shslsanic]

You either skate, or you die // Ameya

[shslsanic]

As Ameya rambled on, he simply began heading through the island towards the dormitories again. After all, this event was set so far into the past that he was allowed to sleep. Not that he was tired, or anything; he just figured returning Ameya to her own room was a pretty logical destination to carry her to. Without that, he’d just end up awkwardly trucking her around until he got too tired to drop her, or until he found another weird place for them to hang out and probably fall over again. So was the nature of their relationship.

"Limits certainly exist…" He offered, trailing off like he often did. "That does not mean they are where we think they are. The human mind creates the illusion of limits in places where they simply think they may be. The only true way to find one’s limits is by testing them, and pushing them until it is certain that they are actually the end of your capabilities. After all, if we simply decided to stop trying when we learned we could not walk, all of us would be crawling around on the ground. Like infants. That would be ridiculous."  He said really seriously. 

He seemed to have little trouble carrying Ameya. Of course, his arm was actually hurting like all hell, evidenced only by a bit of sweat against his neck and a shift of her weight. “My arms are strong simply as a result of my personal training preference, yeah. I do not need them to be terribly strong in order to run, but there is no point in perfecting only one part of the human body. I would rather be physically balanced.”  He was the one going on and on now, maybe because it was a topic he seemed to enjoy, or maybe because he was distracting himself from the pain of his supposedly nonexistent stab wound.

"I am suffering from no such thing, regardless. I know what I can handle, and if I am wrong, then that will simply be a learning experience. I only hope that if I do collapse from having to carry a single person for a short distance that you will be here to support me." He rolled his eyes. 

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"The Narrator to this day often crawls around like an infant," she pointed out. "Although it's much better when she doesn't have to locomote by herself. She smiles up at Umami-kun in a really over the top manner. Then again there's also dancing or swimming...just walking is such a boring way to move between settings, right? If you do it you have to focus on the stuff happening at the same time. Look at all this ambulatory character development."

A logical destination and one she could pretty easily guess as they went on--assuming Kousuke didn't flop on his face before they got there, because she wasn't going to be a nice person and walk by her own damn self. Maybe they both had hubris issues. Just maybe. "Alright, then forget she brought it up! It was a throwaway word anyway. People should be able to have throwaway words without having themselves analyzed to death. ...Well, as long as those things aren't said around The Narrator, who will continue calling people out for casual word choice. Muahaha. Her evil laugh needs work."

While not being the best person at examining things in the world, she was still a Narrator and it was her job to notice. Especially when people were in pain and pretending not to be. That's like...three tropes all by itself. Don't worry, Kousuke, your inner turmoil is safe with her. "Can you bench-press a person?" Way to stay on topic. "Do you also get special shampoo that strengthens your follicles? Do you have a special toe-flexing regimen to prevent cramps? Or a super secret neck massage training thing? How big of a body part does it have to be to warrant special attention?" Way to actually stay on topic, but in a different sarcastic way. The Big Writer In The Sky is probably giving her a disparaging look. With this thought in mind she meekly goes quiet again. 

"She really doesn't think it's necessary, though. Even iiiif arm injuries are only important when they're having excess attention drawn to them. She's just saying."

[shslsanic]

You either skate, or you die // Ameya

[shslsanic]

His arm was gonna fall off. It fell off right then and he never had arms again. Should have reblogged the money arm but instead the money arm had a knife- what am I saying. The reply starts when Kousuke just sort of shifts around awkwardly with Ameya in his grasp for a second, balancing her and getting ready to move. 

"Stop complaining. This is what you were daring me to do and you know it. I am not pathetic enough to be unable to carry a single person. I am not that injured. Please. You are.. insulting me.” He huffed a bit. What was that laundry thing, even? He made sure his left arm held most of her wight, while his other one acted mostly to sit under her legs for support. This was fine. 

"Willpower overcomes many injuries. That is how one manages to endure a sport like mine, after all. Maintaining a top speed for a sprinting race, managing to out-run all of the others despite your body’s limits, it takes… um. Perserverence. Yes. You have to put off whatever pain your body faces in order to grow stronger, and have confidence in what you know your body can do, in favor of more important things. Even if it is painful. That is what I am good at, and that is why I’m… here."

His voice held a bit of a scowling tone to it though he maintained a straight face, now walking out of the skating rink entirely and towards, well… where was he going exactly?  

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"If it is always expected for a person to surmount their own limits over and over, then what is the point of the word limit, anyway?" she asked innocently, still clinging to him but wriggling around a little bit as though he was just getting comfortable. This was fine. This was not fine and she probably shouldn't be allowing it, but still, she was an easily entertained person and arm injuries really weren't that big of a deal. "Serious instances of hitting a wall can actually exist...oooor at least the act of breaking down a wall that wasn't there shouldn't even be in the picture, you know? Put down that shounen manga nonsense."

Well, tropes existed for a reason, even if the reason was to get eventually old and stale. It wasn't like she was actually hoping he'd drop her or something. Despite not being too fazed by physical pain...it was still physical pain, and not something she actually wanted more of in her life, or she would have fallen many more times on the ice rink.

"Plus, she wouldn't expect a sprinter to do many arm exercises. A traceur, perhaps, or like a gymnast. But the only thing his arms ever have to do is swing gently by his sides, right? Or does he just want to be the kind of wiry dude who is capable of carting marshmallows around for no good reason? She would but she doesn't have that much willpower herself. At least as far as physical stuff. What would a Narrator do with the ability to bench-press someone anyway?"

Crossing off the places she had already been and decided to hang out, including bridges, that left...this particular coast? It wasn't so far away, probably. Maybe he was out to dump her in the water, she wouldn't be surprised. "...Tamanegi-kun, she thinks you're suffering from a case of hubris that will be your downfall, though. Seriously."

[delvingintotheblackabyss-blog]

No Rest For The Wicked [Ameya]

[delvingintotheblackabyss-blog]

Kyoki was glad that Ameya understood. Obviously it took someone who worked closely with stories to recognize one when they were looking at it, and Kyoki was glad to not be alone in this regard. After all, it was useless knowing all the trappings of this sort of story if you didn’t have someone you could earnestly discuss it with. She nodded gravely. “Do not think that I fear dying, that I tremble at the thought of having my fragile body knocked to the ground as a murderer stands over me with a jagged knife in one hand as the other moves to my throat, a dark glimmer in their eyes betraying the intent to torment me for hours, sustain the agony until I am incapable of conscious thought, tracing-“

Kyoki caught herself, blushing slightly and coughing. “Anyway, I am a writer. If I am killed, my books live on. But the point you make is valid nontheless. I assure you, you are the sort of person that, were I to do so, I would likely tell my past to. I do not like to use the word friend, but you are pleasant company and excellent conversation.” From the way she’d said it, the words seemed like Kyoki’s attempt at a strong compliment.

She yawned, stretching her arms into the air and pointedly ignoring the fingers being snapped in her face in such a way that made it obvious she was deliberately ignoring them. “Being tired is rather less fascinating than media would have you believe. The most dramatic effect is the feeling of a cloud enveloping my mind, dulling the edges, diluting the oil of the otherwise well-maintained machine, obscuring the light of reason.”

The writer raised an eyebrow at the narrator’s suggestion. “There is no better time to write than when one is scared, when the dark surrounds you and threatens to intrude upon the space of mind in which you are safe, when the unknown whispers to you in the dead of night. But I can see no possible problems with exploring an abandoned building with one other person, alone, in the dead of night. It seems like an excellent idea that could in no way whatsoever end terribly.” 

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

Ameya liked to think Kyoki only caught herself at tracing because of her bland, eyebrows-slightly-raised gaze, which was almost a disappointment because once you got into a mindset like that it was way better to ramble until it ran its course, and real narrators wouldn't have to deal with someone stopping in the middle in the interest of delicacy, but whatever. She would never be super stealth or totally invisible and that wasn't exactly okay but the sooner she got used to that, the better.

"She will keep that in mind and cling closer to Spooky-chan's sleepy shoulder in case she kicks the bucket anytime soon and has to think of some seriously heavy last words right there on the spot. And she will not contest the idea of not fearing death, which is surprisingly prevalent of an idea in mutual killing and tense stories, exactly as helpful or as unhelpful or at least as relevant an ideology as it should be. The Writer In The Sky has a sense of humor. Okay, with all that said, The Narrator believes Cosmic-Horror-chan is also good company, and also that they fit together like two peas in a codependent-career pod. If she makes that the subject of their discussion then their reasonable deaths are assured. Where was she, again?"

Oh, right right, more exploring stuff. She was trying to be a convincing person at this point. "She's gonna take that as emphatic agreement and all but yank poor Spooky-chan out by the hand outside! She says 'all but' to show that she wants to but is not actually gonna do it because she's not sure how that would be reacted to, but she will still gesture and dance on out of the room like a spritely forest nymph showing her the way to the next plot token or something of the sort. Seeeeriously, come on, she's been meaning to check it out herself and this is exactly the time of night for it but she doesn't wanna go alone. Write with action, that's what we're doing right now, anyway! Way more interesting."

[delvingintotheblackabyss-blog]

No Rest For The Wicked [Ameya]

[delvingintotheblackabyss-blog]

Kyoki had not paid much thought to what might happen were she to let herself fall asleep. It was quite likely that she would just be woken up, or possibly shot. Either or. Really, the punishments on this island were terrible. Was there nothing she could do worthy of being strapped down and being tormented with horrible instruments, degraded with vile tortures, incessant cruelty inflicted upon her and - Kyoki suddenly realized that she was in a conversation with somebody and put a stop to those thoughts, although her face reddened considerably. 

Subject-changing time. Ameya kept rambling, as the narrator was prone to do, and helpfully provided endless opportunities to switch the subject to something that would not instigate similar thoughts. In honesty, Kyoki was still just as impressed by the narrator as when she had first met the girl; it was very rare for Kyoki to meet someone who actually talked more than her. Plus, someone with a good enough understanding of the conventions of stories such as these to apply them to life. 

Kyoki’s deepseated admiration for Ameya Matsura, however, did nothing to dispel her natural instinct, which was to be sarcastic to the point of obnoxiousness. “I beg of you, if you let the others see you in such a state of dumbfoundedness, the secret shall soon be out that I am not, in fact, the president of the National Sleep Deprivation Fanclub of Japan. Most of my better days, if you would believe such controversy, were spent at my home, on days on which I had had an adequate amount of sleep. I am afraid that I am not the sort of character who divulges their entire life’s story at a single prompting, Matsura-san. That would just be lazy writing.” 

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"Hmmmmmm," she responded, running her tongue over her teeth in the most thoughtful manner possible, "Yeah, okay. She wants to claim that we're all real people with real lives and that it wouldn't really matter what kind of things were divulged to her at what times, but another part of her suggests that life events are not really set in stone until they're told to someone else, and that things are only as important as the courage and trust required to tell them. ...Plus, if Spooky-chan said anything important, she'd have to do a Death In The Limelight. Forget she said anything. Recently, anyway."

Almost absentmindedly, she snapped her fingers in front of Kyoki's face a few times, rhythmic as all hell and probably intended to be helpful but still mostly annoying. "But yeah, alright, Spooky-chan can keep all of her undoubtedly acid-trip-reminiscent hallucinations to herself and The Narrator will just live with the burning curiosity forever. She wasn't asking about the whole life story anyway, that kind of thing either spawns only sarcasm or a story within a story, or perhaps this whole story only being a traumatic recollection of a surviving Spooky-chan? Who's to say?"

Since that was probably a terrible idea, she backed off as she was talking, with her hands held up in a gesture of peace. No more snapping. "But still, she wonders why anybody is hanging out writing inside in the middle of the night when there's a whole cool island to explore! Especially a certain place that was explicitly blocked off. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

[delvingintotheblackabyss-blog]

No Rest For The Wicked [Ameya]

[delvingintotheblackabyss-blog]

Kyoki still managed to somehow find the energy to raise a dispassionate eyebrow at the appearance of the narrator. Presumably she was here for a reason, but then, considering what Kyoki knew of her, this conjecture was founded on baseless optimism. However, although she was in no state to hold a conversation, if she had to wearily attempt to string tired thoughts together into a semblance of coherence, she could think of many worse people to do it with than Ameya. 

Swallowing a slightly greasy mouthful of seafood, she dabbed at her lips with a napkin and spoke in a dry monotone. “Although I would not blame myself if it were true, I have yet to fall to the clutches of madness, and the manuscript “All work and no play makes Kyoki a dull girl” has yet to materialize.”

The chapter she was writing in question seemed to be about a man who is terrified that something stalking him just outside his peripheral vision will kill him if he falls asleep. It’s the sort of thing to induce a creeping paranoia after you’d read it. Her fingers kept moving as she spoke. “Shocking as this may be, and do try to underplay how thunderstruck you are by the information, I have, in fact, had better days.” 

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"Almost disappointing. Actual tired tiredness is a lot less interesting than TV makes it look. Maybe you just have to get tired-er. When did Dragon-Lady-chan say you could pass out again? Come to think of it, is this even a punishment thing or is she just expecting you to agree and keep slapping yourself awake and feeding yourself coffee or what? It can't really regulate your brain activity every second of the day, right? Or maybe it'll just pop up with a vuvuzela."

She kept babbling even as her eyes scanned the visible page, apparently speed-reading or not comprehending a word of it. More likely the latter since she resisted the urge to look behind her after she finished the page. Not like there were nightmare demons sneaking up on them. No, just...regular people with big knives.

"She cannot underplay it, she is simply Too Thunderstruck, accentuated with hands on her cheeks, almost physically forcing her mouth open in a visual callback to The Scream, only, soundless, and less of everything in particular. She tries. They all try. But usually fail. What better days are there, Spooky-chan? She needs the serious backstory deets."

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

in which the narrator only wants to (cash register noise) take your money | manga

[shsl-networker]

'I've discovered your problem! You're mentally 4 years old!' Manga tried to appeal to some greater power, anything, anything at all that would help him to mantain some level of composure.

"Haha, So I’ve gone from Sizzle-kun, to potentially Dickhead-kun, to Work-a-holic-kun, huh?" He was trying to be charming. Truthfully - Manga wasn’t compelled to violence very often, but between the nicknames and her machete exhibition he was about set to hire a hitman.

This was honestly starting to look like fixing smashed china with sticky tape. Some things just-could-not-be-fixed. Regardless, he tried again.

"Hnnn, but as you say Ameya-san, ‘narrating’ the common man doesn’t offer much in terms of bread for the table, no?" After a second to stroke his chin, he went for a different tact. "I mean, don’t you MISS being in the limelight, Ameya? At a certain level of fame, hell you can get away with practically anything. You could carry a Yari, Pudao, Bardiche, Glaive a-a Partizan, heck even a poleaxe and like, nobody would bat an eyelid at you!! You’ve read all this stuff before, you don’t need me to tell you how so-and-so famous person held up traffic for 14 hours and got off scott-free!”

"Look you’re a smart gal, Ameya-" Well that’s a lie. “and I like what you do-” and that’s a worse lie. “But you’re not being clever with this. Life sometimes only gives us one shot at being successful, and sometimes yeah that means biting the bullet and doing something we might not like neccessarily.” He put his hands up diplomatically. “Now don’t think I’m saying you should do VA buddy, - I ain’t. You could do voice over for documentaries or-or I dunno, theatre, yeah? If you don’t think voice acting is your thing, that’s your call. But baby when you speak people listen. That’s power. And that power is yours alone - it’s a waste to let a good thing go to waste.”

"As for what I do?" He smirked, and looked down at her. "I’m a rainmaker, sister - and my word n’ influence is like the stuff of legend out there. When I see great people, I’m the guy who helps by throwin’ them the life ring.”

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"Nicknames are less fluid than he probably thinks. You can't just refer to somebody as the same thing for their whole story, right, it gets boring. She draws a hard line at hair and eye colors and not just because this island is the most horrifying anime palette. The firey redhead looks like he's contemplating a lot of awful things all at the same time and yeah she can't do this."

Because she apparently had no desire not to appear like a person in desperate need of fixing, she finally reached the snow globes and scooped up an enormous armful before shuffling over to the counter and going about her card-scanning business. Not a single globe would be left by the time she was done. Perhaps there were baseball bats in here that she hadn't already noticed, even!

"But yeah, Workaholic-kun. She considers her Narrating shtick a labor of love but only a severely work-stunted person would continue Rainmaking under severe and constant threat of murder. It almost makes you wonder if the state of society has degraded into substrate all over again, making such efforts totally useless? Can't people keep their apocalypses under control, geez. Either way, she's pretty sure this kicked everybody's career in the tuchus. She could spend the rest of her life narrating vaguely dystopian newsreels for all she knows. Or...being a pile of bleached bones or something. Really, she's not all that interested in career moves right now?"

When was the last time she even did something that could be considered a career move, now that she thought about it? She'd gotten her voice heard for sure, but it wasn't the same as having people knowing her name...and wasn't that supposed to be why she got into this junk in the first place? Okay, wait, no, what was she thinking, this was a dumb line of introspection to get into in mutual killing when she'd already accepted she had no idea whether she'd make it or not. And if, for that matter, Manga probably wouldn't either.

"Shaking herself out of her reverie with a very overdramatic actual head-shake, The Narrator picks up a snow globe and stares critically at it before looking around for a handy non-bladed bludgeoning instrument. Is Sizzle-kun a sportsperson, perhaps? He looks a little crisp for that, maybe?"

[shslsanic]

You either skate, or you die // Ameya

[shslsanic]

"What? No. That’s even worse."  Kousuke don’t say that macking on you is worse than macking on the gross ice rink floor. You didn’t think that through.  As the jacket flew over his feet, he noticed her squinting finally and squinted right back with a look that practically bled with resentment. Don’t you dare say anything, he telepathied at her while pulling his jacket back on over himself unevenly. 

Kousuke then squinted even further at her as she began pretty much forcing his hand here on the whole picking her up thing. Seriously, she was basically listing off a whole gaggle of people who were apparently stronger than him, and that was not acceptable from his not-best not-friend. 

"None of them are as strong as me, leg-wise or not. Especially not Pizza-s-  I mean that guy. For fucks sake, okay, I did not want to do this.” He still sounded as serious as ever as he walked over to her and stared first at her sock business, and then at her face. Then with all the eloquence as a Kousuke about to punch someone, he announced himself.

"I am going to pick you up." He then leaned down to attempt exactly that, trying to bear her weight with his good arm while using his other for her legs, forming some sort of bridal-style not-laundry-esque scoop. 

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"Yeah, that's supposed to be the point, she says, puckering obnoxiously and actually digging deep in her Victoria's Secret Compartment for her lip gloss. She is gonna get chapped as all heck if she doesn't slather pomegranate goop on her face all the time. A specialized area of the face. She keeps forgetting because the wind keeps putting sand and her hair in her face and getting it all stuck and nobody likes that."

Yes, she actually was rummaging around in her own bra as if her boobs were hiding her lip gloss with all the enthusiasm of Oskar Schindler. She never claimed to be a classy dame. Of course his reaction was expected, but she had to put up her token dismissal, and/or resistance. Flailing would probably get somebody's nose broken, though.

"Hey, what's wrong with using her lovingly handpicked nicknames, anywhoa okay she guesses this is happening? Ahh, why did Icarus have to fly into the sun and attempt to carry it with his own stupid arms, that's the question. Beause she has accepted this wholeheartedly and only because it's a nice carry and not like a weird laundry scoop, and yes there is a very distinct difference, she clings to him around the neck area like she is frightened of being dropped on her head--it could happen--and like the ground is infinity feet away and not like five."

This is exactly what she wanted, right. And now his arm was gonna fall off or something. Ameya, I hope you're happy. "This is what she means about arm injuries meaning jack shit. Especially in the face of WILLPOWER."

[shslsanic]

You either skate, or you die // Ameya

[shslsanic]

Watching from the corner of his eye as Ameya begins anticlimactically taking off her skates, he gets his off pretty slowly too. It’s apparent as he gets his skate unlaced and pulls it off, for some reason much more obviously than ever before, that Kousuke’s feet are absolutely enormous. As if realizing this visibility as he removed his shoe, he slowly put his foot behiind his other one as he unlaced its skate.

"That was disgusting." The floor smooching, that is. "You are going to catch something and I am going to tell everyone that it is because you were macking with the ground like some sort of over-amorous animal. Filthy." Is he joking? His words implied that he must be, but his tone as as serious and scrutinizing as ever. Once his other shoe is off, he reaches over to grab his regular ones, and starts to put them on his clown feet.

Putting those on much faster, though he takes great care in tying them nice and snug and making sure theyre fit to his feet, he stood up after a bit of silence and looked at her as if considering. He rubbed at his arm, thoughtfully, before pointing his finger down at her dramatically.

"Fine. But, you have to admit that I am strong enough to do it. And that I am the strongest on the island. And… that I could throw you if I wanted to."  He started to put his opposing hand on his hip for effect,  but winced and dropped it again. 

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"She would say that this is the first time someone has even called her over-amorous, but it's not, and people are dumb." Not even because his feet were weirdly huge but just because he obviously had some kind of complex about them, she squinted as aggressively as she could, hopefully demonstrating some kind of middle-school-bully-esque insult with just her eyes. "If she catches something she'll tell everybody she got it from macking on him."

Finally, after a lot of ridiculously theatrical tugging, she was just sitting there in her socks, which were already much bigger than normal socks, with no intention of giving them back either. As though this was apparently too much at one time for even a serial clothes thief, she frowned and tugged the second jacket over her head to fling it on the ground at his (weirdly huge) feet. Her hair almost immediately puffed up in staticky protest.

"She is admitting no such thing! If he wants to injure himself in the pursuit of hubris to demonstrate something further down the line about a prideful death, then by all means he totally can. The Narrator is just playing the role of conscience here to demonstrate why that is such a bad idea. Not to mention she can think of several people just as strong, not-leg-wise. Like...Fancy-chan, maybe. Or Pizza-sometimes-kun. Murasaki-chan can probably wrestle bears. And yet even for all of those people, The Narrator's marshmallowy too-earthly body would never leave their hands. She has her own gravitational pull."

This was definitely not said in a challenging tone and accompanied by a tilted eyebrow. If we all stopped doing things just because they were terrible ideas, what kind of world would we live in?

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

in which the narrator only wants to (cash register noise) take your money | manga

[shsl-networker]

The longer he spent in the presence of the narrator, the more inclined he became to just scream and throw his head into a wall until it - the narrator - stopped making sounds.

He was sure by this point that this was true agony. True, real pain. Forget poverty, forget obscurity. There was a new low in town, a new deep dark depth to depression one could discover.

And that was Matsura Ameya.

For a second or two he just stared - his expression a mix between bafflement and horror as she babbled on and on. At a certain point, Manga gave up trying to follow her wild train of thoughts and instead did his best to block out the onslaught of drivel. That was until she brought up his reference to her most famous work, and despite himself he couldn’t help but burst back into the conversation with some level of pride at recognizing her voice and having done his homework.

"Of course I know who you are. I make it my job to recognize t-…ah." He caught himself just in time. Talent, her? He scratched at his head distracted by the sudden thought - a frown spreading across his face in the process. Maybe he’d been too busy shoehorning her into his own neatly categorized boxes rather than paying attention to what she actually offered the world. Crazy sells, after all. Not only that but a VA that narrates every goddamn thing (no matter how infuriating) is unique. She definitely couldn’t be labeled in any conventional way and when you look at it like that - that’s unique. Special. One of a kind.

He paused all of a sudden. Maybe he’d been jumping the gun on Matsura Ameya. Personally hating the guts of all people he was acquainted with was almost par for the course. Plus, whose to say her latest hits weren’t failures because her agent was inept? Almost by convention - Ameya further nailed the point home.

"she’ll probably be more famous for this, whether she gets out or not."

…It must have been incredible to witness Manga’s 180 - glare and tension dissipated, replaced by his usual cock-sure demeanor and sharp eyes that barely hid ulterior motives.

"It’s not Pinstripes-kun, Has-b" …-corrected himself just in time - ‘Don’t call her has-been- chan, Manga. Focus.’ "…The name is Manga Ichimonji, Ameya-san.. I’d say I’m a fan but, really I haven’t caught any of your latest works. It’s almost like you fell off the spectrum a bit?"

The smile he wore was earnest - or at least in Manga’s case not totally arrogant. The closest it ever got to normal. It was most likely due to him still being rather alarmed and unnerved at Ameya’s earlier act - he hadn’t exactly made a full recovery. Still, it worked wonders for keeping his personality under control as even as Ameya waved her drool covered finger, Manga’s reaction was simply to blink. Oh sure - he absolutely winced inwardly at this gross and horrific display. But Manga had figured his angle in this mess. So long as he was motivated, nothing could stop him.

"Why’d I come here? Guess I was just looking for something entertaining." He shrugged with a smile. Honestly, Manga just scoured the grounds for the famous people. "When the world’s full of people who’re all sizzle and no steak, maybe I’m just looking for the next big thing."

"Tell me Ameya, did you ever want to get back into voice acting? Get your next big gig? I could be exactly the guy you need to get you back in the saddle."

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

It was incredible to witness his transformation. Ameya couldn't have seen a better one from a Magical Girl show. It almost made her want to applaud, but that probably would have been seen as rude. As would suggesting he himself go into acting, probably. Ameya may have looked airheaded, but she wasn't stupid, and he pretty obviously didn't like her as a person. That said...a new and interesting line of conversation, she might as well go with it!

"The Narrator is not a voice actress, she replies innocently, folding her hands behind her back with all the demure shyness of a schoolgirl. That's probably where his problem lies. She hasn't done that kind of stuff since..." Since Under a Green Sky ended, probably. The title made her feel a little nauseous just in her own head. "...Since ever, really. Narrating has always been her deal and she's really only done the stuff that interested her for a long time. Which, granted, isn't the best thing for getting her name up in lights."

Finally allowing the machete sheath to get the best of her, she snatched it up off the ground and put it over the arm of her injured hand like a giant mitten. "I-chi-mon-ji Man-ga. Hmmm. Sizzle-kun it is, and he should count himself lucky it's not Dickhead-kun. She's absolutely horrendous at remembering names, see?" She grinned like a possessed girl scout. Not her best, but hey, there were always more slots available. "And yet, she's still very appreciative of being called interesting. Which everyone can be in their own little way, but the fact that he hasn't already hightailed it out of her screaming and swearing and shouting at maybe-present cameras says a lot. Very sorry about the machete, ｂｅｅ  ｔｅｅ  ｄｏｕｂｌｅｙｏｕ. She's a woman on a mission."

It didn't really matter if she came off as just insensitive or the world's worst liar. What mattered was that she had said it! "Aaaanyway, she continues, looking Sizzle-kun up and down as his whole demeanor changes, and inwardly wondering what brought up his newfound interest, she can roll with this. No, she has never ever wanted to get into voice acting at all, she responds with a slightly mechanical smile in dramatic contrast to her earlier too-smiley smile. She is not about that life. As if looking at him is now offensive to her eyes, her gaze drifts off to around the rest of the store, seeking out more cool goodies to brandish."

Just as she said it, her eyes fell on a display of festive...Aku-chan-themed snow globes and her eyes narrowed. Maybe she could just...scan the whole stock and smash them all up. Not very surreptitiously, she started sidestepping towards it. Soon, snow globes, your reign of terror would be over.

"So what did Workaholic-kun say his talent was, anyway?" Tone now back to normal, she gave him a very curious look out of the corner of her eye.

[shslsanic]

You either skate, or you die // Ameya

[shslsanic]

"Luckily we avoided that component of evolution by creating these skates. Fascinating how technology works." He rolled his eyes majestically without getting off track in their trip. "No, I was not raised by a polygamist cult, and I did not have several parents. Just the two. Stop picking apart everything I say."

Guiding Ameya mostly as an idle gesture now, holding her as he began to near the middle of the ice, he didnt bother sliding around the wall like he had been. He’s cutting right through the middle, swooceing right in. 

"I do not consider it my business, so it isnt. It certainly does not matter anymore." He cut off with a purse of the lips like he was done with that topic, and instead glanced over her contemplatively. How competitive was he again? He was certainly considering picking Ameya up and gliding across the ice with her, but maybe it would  be a bit much considering the nature of ice skates and all that. Ameya would probably flop around and flail her arms as much as she could to get him to fall over anyway, and then how would he recover from that? 

"I can do it." He said anyway, with confidence. As he finally drifted her over to the doorway, he stepped up easily onto the dry round and let go of her arms. Once she was seemingly steady, he started to lean down to unlace his shoes. "Give me a second. I will do it." 

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"Technology can suck a moist towlette," she grumbled, continuing on her hockey puck trajectory. "Picking apart everything people say is a very productive existence, actually! It teaches people to be more responsible with their dialogue. There's only a limited amount of exposure people get, it's serious business, man. Couldn't he just say he was born into a polygamist cult and make himself sound very--ohhh, sweet solid ground, she's saved!"

The second she hopped off the ice, wobbling a little in place, she finally totally steadied herself...and promptly flopped forward onto her knees again, dramatically kissing the ground with, of course, a loud soundtrack of smoochy sounds. "She has never been so glad to be on a stable surface in her life. Mwah, mwah mwah."

After a few smooches she started to think about how many people had actually walked through here before (something that actors in movies no doubt never had to worry about!) and sat up again, surreptitiously dusting off her tongue. Not that she was frenching the floor or anything like that, but that was just another symbolic action that people did. Surely her lips were made of stern stuff. "Whoaaaa, there, hold your horses, and your tigers, and your lions and bears maybe, oh my. Hold everything you've got. She knows that arm injuries are the narrative equivalent of paper cuts but she still assumes this is not the best idea."

Rather than unlacing she tried to just yank the shoes off at first, only to discover that skates clung like jealous lovers and they were definitely her size anyway. There went her whole Cool and Effortless aesthetic. She stuck her tongue out them and went about unlacing them as well. "Seriously, she says, she doesn't even want to be paraded around like that. What if people think things. Please, Tamanegi-kun, don't throw her in the briar patch."

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

in which the narrator only wants to (cash register noise) take your money | manga

[shsl-networker]

"Weird ass trigger?!"

Ooooh he hates her so much. Nuttier than a fruitcake and with plenty of crazy to spare - Ameya wasn’t pulling any punches. He was starting to wonder if this was acting, her kink, or if she was just trying to mess with him. It didn’t really matter which one it was because it was effective and it absolutely was bothering the heck out of him. He again tried to appeal to the normal, human side to her - and not the Rambo, beast-warrior, cavewoman he was currently seeing.

"Again I stress, on planet earth we have this thing called "crazy people". See, what you’re doing-” He broadly gestured at her with his hand “This- right here, yeah? This is all currently crazy - this is what CRAZY PEOPLE do. Waving around large blades and-” He paused just in time to see Ameya tear the sheathe off with her teeth - “…And -y-e-s- biting off sheathes with your teeth… All these things are what I might consider a CRAZY PERSON doing, you friggin’ head case.”

"And for the record…" Again, out came his finger - pointing and gesturing once more. "I do not have an issue with getting these things with your card, because as you say we are allowed to use our cards to ‘pay’ for these things so it’s not as if we’re stealing or breaking rules… however-" But Manga didn’t get much further into his thoughts, because he spent the next twenty seconds scream-shouting a half dozen colourful expletives.

Yes, Ameya accidentally cutting her finger sent what little left of his composure out the window. …It went without saying he hated horror movies.

”!!!! What the ever living fuck is wrong with you!??! No wonder Endlessly and Forever is like, your biggest hit because they probably realized after that, that YOU’RE COMPLETELY OFF YOUR ROCKER!!!”

"And lady, no dice on your "risk factors" when you start GODDAMN SLICING YOURSELF WITH YOUR OWN PROTECTION!!! Ohhhmygoddd, all you have to do is SPEAK that’s deterrent enough for me - bloody mary…!!!"

He shook his head. She was crazy. He was breaking into a cold sweat because of this absolutely nuts voice actor. I mean that was clearly it - she was just crazy - absolutely crazy.

If she didn’t impale herself by the end of the day and if she was still alive by the time the authorities fished them out of this hole, he’d be willing to consider that a modern day miracle.

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"Okay, she apologizes, to, uhhh. People with legitimate triggers, which may or not be Pinstripe-kun. And she specifically said weird-ass, like with a hyphen! A person with a weird ass trigger would just get triggered by weird asses and that is a horrifying way to live your life! ...And she didn't really come here to wave big knives around, this is just the most outwardly intimidating thing they've got! She didn't really check for chainsaws around the hedge maze but tropes aside they're terrible at tearing through human flesh anyway. Not that she's personally checked. She's not crazy!"

So she might be messing with him a little bit, but that wasn't what she was trying for in the first place! Look at that whole gravy debacle or every other time she interacted with Kousuke. These things just happened. And this all seemed completely normal in her mind. There wasn't, like, any large-scale pranking business going on with enormous knives. That would probably be Legitimately Dangerous and not just the potential danger of dousing someone in hot gravy.

Still with her finger in her mouth, she kept up her chill conversation. "Ahah, oh man, she was beginning to think everyone here was living under a rock because that's actually the first time she's heard that brought up! And you can't beat classics, alright? She's avoiding that typecasting stuff like the plague. Consider the happy result that she'll probably be more famous for this, whether she gets out or not. No Child Star business for her, no sir!" Oh, wait, he was screaming. Dude, why were you making this so difficult.

"Okay, no, no, really, it's cool, there's no injury aside from straight up murder that sticking the bleedy part in your mouth won't fix, see?" She promptly held up her saliva-covered finger for investigation, only to remember that she probably shouldn't have been sucking on it, because even the non-bleedy part of it was now stained a light red. "...Ehhhh, maybe that wasn't her best demonstration yet, she responds in a mollified manner, wincing as she just rubs the offending finger off on her dress and probably staining it a little bit, gross. So, what brought Pinstripe-kun into...this particular corner of Consumerism Hell, she adds cheerfully as though the previous five minutes hadn't happened."

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

in which the narrator only wants to (cash register noise) take your money | manga

[shsl-networker]

He’d been feeling pretty sure of himself and his on the money insults - but that was all until Ameya had brought out her machete (which yes, apparently she had one of those) and lovingly pet all the dust off it with the adoration a serial murderer might show for his own like-minded collection.

Subconciously he’d found himself stepping back, forgetting that he was already right in front of the door. The act of bumping into the door startled him a bit, so much so that he couldn’t help but sarcastically retort to himself 'you were the one who wanted to bait sally speaks to herself. Just remember that when she murders you and narrates the whole shebang.' He grimaced.

But that was until Ameya had offered him something. A machete. His very own machete!

His eyes just boggled at this.

"Lady…"

"…A-Are you high!? ..W-wait, don’t answer that - I really don’t want to know!" Nevermind the fact that the sharpest thing Manga had ever held was a pencil and he got his live-in maid to deal with the sharp knives.

"Oooohhhhh-myyyyyyy-gooooodddddddd-" He pressed his hands firmly to his temple. "You really have devolved haven’t you…" He then raised his voice in order to address big brother "OR MAYBE IT’S THIS STUPID GODDAMN ISLAND THAT’S DISSOLVING THEIR BRAINS, HOLY COW."

Instinctively he’d tried to back away again, but there was that damn pesky door that hadn’t magically disappeared. The thought of making a run for it occurred to him. After all this was clearly PSYCHO BEHAVIOUR. He was just afraid of turning his back on someone holding a great big fucking machete.

"N-no… Okay, just - no.”

"I…" He took a deep breath in order to steady himself, his finger raised in the process. "I come from a WORLD a PLACE, right- where a-a witty retort earns you an eyeroll, or I don’t know, sarcasm back! I am NOT mentally prepared to have machetes offered to me, you anachronistic caveman - or woman, cave-WOMAN, I-I don’t know! I’m just… you- …" He shook his head numerous times, the effort to connect words into sentences started to fail him.

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

This is what you get for entering the corner store of surprisingly available weapons. She wanted a halberd, but there were no goddamn halberds. Just downright disappointing for murder island. Maybe it wasn't even that sharp. Getting sold right out in the open like that... Deciding to test her theory, she tucked the second machete, the one he didn't take because he was a weirdo, under one arm and tugged the first one's sheath off with her teeth. Only to promptly spit it out on the floor. Classy.

"She feels like she's poked a weirdass trigger point of his, The Narrator proclaims wisely. At least it's not a money thing. Hey, if she said that everything was free just as long as you scan your card proper, would he have a little freakout over that too? For the record...she feels like getting used to sharp objects is just something that has to happen on Brain-Dissolving Island. Or else you die or something, maybe. She holds the super scary blade up to the light and curiously runs her finger down the edge offffffuck."

Okay, so it actually was sharp after all. She stuck her now bleeding finger in her mouth and glared at the machete as though this whole problem was its fault. "Okay, scratch that, she says, in a slightly squished voice like a person who's talking with a finger in her mouth. If getting threatened by a machete-wielding stranger is his spiders she feels that with both of her hands and an entire face full of sensory absorbing details. Sad to say she acted like this a while before she got here. It was a problem but not that big of a problem. She usually does answer sarcasm with sarcasm too! But...no eye-rolls! Boring!"

She poked around on the floor with a bare foot trying to pick up the sheath with her toes, only to succeed in pushing it around a little bit. At a loss and no longer wanting to hold several large knives, she just put the first one back in its place on the wall. (This all could have been avoided if there had been a halberd in stock, but noooo.) "She was thinking something about deterrence, which would work until it didn't. Deterrence from the Dickass-kun brigade, maybe? She doesn't want to be unfair with her defense mechanisms but there's also a thing called risk factors."

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

in which the narrator only wants to (cash register noise) take your money | manga

[shsl-networker]

Manga squinted long and hard. It was work just trying to keep the word bile down. After all when you hear conversation you just assume it’s between people - but that’s logic speaking, that’s something humans do. It was bad practice to assume the “Narrator” was human. She’d devolved.

"…You’re the nightmare." Manga hissed under his breath. "Fresh from hell, made manifest from the woes of all mankind…" He’d stalked off in order to look at the trinkets in the shop but had decided fairly quickly that he’d rather not be breathing the same air as the jackass who’d once declared that he was ‘The boy with a hairstyle bigger than his head’.

…But Manga just couldn’t leave well enough alone. One hand on the door, ready to leave - it gradually fell to his side as he turned round - head held high in order to look down on Ameya - which was as usual, quite the talent considering his stature.

"No, you know what, I’m sorry - I have to ask! Just what makes a person decide to become a walking parody of themselves? I’m just wondering - like, if something traumatic happened to you or if you just woke up one morning and decided - ‘you know what mommy, I want to be a joke! Just a big, massive, pathetic joke’!"

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

Ohoho, what was this, a present just for her? She'd been missing the interaction with a bunch of varied people and a person could never get enough overt antagonists. Apparently not too disappointed that her conversation starter had fallen flat, she slid a giant machete in a cloth sheath off the wall and hooked it over her shoulder--flat-side-ways, because she had no desire to cleave off her own arm or something. She'd purchase it on the way out, probably. Everyone could use a big-ass machete in their lives.

"Pinstripe-kun continues to feel the indelible call of human interaction. There is no shame in that, she too has subjected herself to far more conversations than normal just to learn more about a person, even at the cost of her own mood. Despite existing outside the story. You know how it is. She prefers to think of it like having the boundless self-esteem to do anything she wants. And sometimes she just wants to act like a big joke too. It happens. A big genre-savvy, tongue-in-cheek, beloved parody, yes."

Her face turned slowly to the machete she was still holding and dusted a minute amount of shirt fuzz off its cool sheath. No one in books ever had to deal with things like shirt fuzz and random hairs attached to their clothes or dandruff.

"She seems to consider the greatest question for a second before shrugging and saying she wishes it might have been from a head injury. Head injuries are the modern day radioactive sludge. But no, she has no excuse, just like she has no excuse for anything. Would you believe her if she said she once glimpsed into the void and discovered that for all our livelihood everything there is...is only a story within a story within a story?" While she was talking, she poked at the other machetes lying around and even slid a second one off the wall to offer it to him. Ameya, what the hell would you ever do that for.

[shslsanic]

You either skate, or you die // Ameya

[shslsanic]

As Ameya stood, Kousuke took no time in ignoring her criticisms of his super skatey fun-time and sliding up to his own feet. Balancing easily as he shoved onto his skates, he patiently watched her until she began windmilling. At that moment, he calmly reached out to grab her shoulders with his hands and steady her. No more of this falling business. No more.

"Help has arrived. You know, if you spent less time talking, and criticizing my various parents, maybe you would be able to perform this simple physical task." He kept his eyes evenly on her through that sick burn before slowly guiding his hands over his arms to try and see if she’d stay up  long enough to guide her back to the door.

"I’m not ignorant. I told you, we did not get along well.  It’s none of your or my business, now, are you going to try and move your feet at all this time or should I just pick you up."  He was not serious about that offer but if the narrator dared challenge him for a second we all know what is going to happen. 

[hidingfromthingsfornow]

"If human beings were meant to slide around on frozen stuff in total disregard for the dramatic pull of falling through some ice and possibly dying, they would have been born with skatey appendages. ...And what does he mean, various parents, how many could he possibly have tucked away? Was he raised by a polygamist cult? That doesn't sound so bad actually. 'Hey, mom, can I go to the movies?' 'No-suke.' 'Hey other mom--'"

She continued to placidly skate--keeping her feet and arms totally still as she was shoved across the ice like a hockey puck--while she talked. Apparently this approach was enough to keep her upright, or else she was more concerned about something other than flailing theatrically. 

"Okay, but...not your own business is a little much. The Narrator definitely concerns herself with her worldly familial matters. ...Ish. She'd know if some serious shit was going down, she supposes. Don't make fun. And for the record, she is about 99% positive that Umami-kun cannot actually pick her up." Another secret percentage, slightly less of a majority but still far and ahead the most likely outcome, was how likely he was to actually try anyway and fail thanks to Dead Arm. How competitive was he, again? "She's kind of a marshmallow, you know. Just a little bit, uh, not the kind of physique people suggest picking up. It may actually kill you."