With a quiet but distinct chiming, the Medicine Seller enters the room.
Or at least announces his presence there. It can be extremely hard to tell, with him.
At any rate, he's there, doing what he does best--poking and fussing and meddling, and occasionally slapping magic scrolls on things to see how they react. This is the biggest break he's had since he got here, and yet, even here in the heart of the Queen's lair, he has no idea of her Truth, her Regret, even her Form. He's been here for months, and still, nothing he's done has been able to expose any of her truths.
Perhaps, if nothing else, the trinkets will tell him something. He rifles through them with a delicate touch, replacing everything as it was found, making an extremely detailed mental list. With the eyes on the very top of it.
There was no way Conan was passing up the chance to investigate the Mirror's side. When he found that the Queen's Chambers were now able to be seen, he was so there. No doubt about it.
It can't be that huge of a chamber, so naturally, while Conan was poking around on his own, he caught sight of the Medicine Seller doing his weird...magic scroll thingies.
Cue the looking. And the caution. Was it a mirror or not? More importantly, was he dangerous or not?
"Hello, mister. ....Are you a Mirror or not?" Conan asked, deciding to go straight forward. Who knew how long they could stay here. He didn't want to waste too much time talking to someone else.
Conan breathed a sigh of relief inwardly. That's one hurdle down. And he didn't seem to be too dan....no, Conan's intuition told him to be wary of this person. But at least he didn't seem to going to attack out of nowhere.
"Thanks."
He took a note of what the Medicine Seller was fingering at, before opening his notebook and sketching out a quick sketch of the chambers. Conan decided to not talk to the other at the moment (although keeping tabs on him). If this person was from the real side, then he could always find him and talk to him later.
That's what Conan thinks. The Medicine Seller has a real talent for disappearing when he pleases and showing up when it's convenient for him.
But he's not going anywhere for the moment, just walking around the room and taking stock. And getting a little frustrated that even here, none of the evidence points to any Form he's aware of. What the Hell, Queen.
Well, Conan's speciality is tracking people down. He'll manage somehow. Although a cat and mouse game with Medicine Seller and Conan might be rather interesting.
Conan was getting slightly frustrated as well. But not finding evidence always is normal in detective work. After he finishes sketching a map, he starts poking around with the items.
The Medicine Seller, meanwhile, moves on to the scales. Which respond to something, but it's not staying still long enough for him to get any useful information. Bothersome. Perhaps he can shut her in with some kind of barrier...
Or at least announces his presence there. It can be extremely hard to tell, with him.
At any rate, he's there, doing what he does best--poking and fussing and meddling, and occasionally slapping magic scrolls on things to see how they react. This is the biggest break he's had since he got here, and yet, even here in the heart of the Queen's lair, he has no idea of her Truth, her Regret, even her Form. He's been here for months, and still, nothing he's done has been able to expose any of her truths.
Perhaps, if nothing else, the trinkets will tell him something. He rifles through them with a delicate touch, replacing everything as it was found, making an extremely detailed mental list. With the eyes on the very top of it.
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It can't be that huge of a chamber, so naturally, while Conan was poking around on his own, he caught sight of the Medicine Seller doing his weird...magic scroll thingies.
Cue the looking. And the caution. Was it a mirror or not? More importantly, was he dangerous or not?
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"...Good evening."
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"Hello, mister. ....Are you a Mirror or not?" Conan asked, deciding to go straight forward. Who knew how long they could stay here. He didn't want to waste too much time talking to someone else.
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Not like there's any harm in telling him, but the Medicine Seller doesn't see the need to rush anything.
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"Not really. But with this event and the place we're in, I can't help but to ask that," Conan replied.
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He was quiet a little bit longer, setting the trinket back down and brushing his fingers over another one, still taking stock.
"...I am... authentic."
See? It wasn't that hard to get out of him. This time.
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"Thanks."
He took a note of what the Medicine Seller was fingering at, before opening his notebook and sketching out a quick sketch of the chambers. Conan decided to not talk to the other at the moment (although keeping tabs on him). If this person was from the real side, then he could always find him and talk to him later.
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But he's not going anywhere for the moment, just walking around the room and taking stock. And getting a little frustrated that even here, none of the evidence points to any Form he's aware of. What the Hell, Queen.
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Conan was getting slightly frustrated as well. But not finding evidence always is normal in detective work. After he finishes sketching a map, he starts poking around with the items.
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After a moment of watching, Conan decided to open his mouth. "What are those....scales for?"
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