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Vlad eyed the City Person's attempted Estra illustration critically, scanning it for a moment - huh, this guy didn't seem to be a much better artist than he was (his page flips had gone by very rapidly indeed). Taking that into consideration, this image was sufficient.

"Kind of, yes," he said brusquely, missing the monotone terror in his face. "Anyway I d - "

The other Book Child's noises - right behind his shoulder - induced a sharp, small shudder, Vlad's way of being surprised (which naturally contained some tone of annoyance since he hated being crept up on and everything else ever).

Oppressed by the two persons now, he said curtly, "It's a Book Child."

"Anyway," he continued, irritably, "I don't need you to look, Chiaroscuro." His defences were up as a matter of habit, but the nerviness of the man soothed him a little, and some masked personage was already out there looking for his dove, so - and he had a pictorial version, so... "You can look for her if you like." Vlad relented.

The approach of a third was right out; he did not like being cornered at all, especially with his text swirling around like that. "She's lost." He briefly updated the other Book Child, as if what he'd told Chiaroscuro wasn't indication enough, but you could never be too careful after some odd armed fellow produced scholarly talk. "And I don't need help," a repeated emphasis, "but you can look for her if you like too."

"And as for you, sir," Vlad said to the antennae'd City Person with edged sarcasm (as he usually would at work to authority), and considered the situation - well, there were the lanterns, but perhaps the brighter the better...it might be easier to catch Estra in the light. "That would be kind."

"In any case." The crow snapped with finality, pulling down his cuff with a sharp jerk, "I've dallied long enough. I need to find her."

The samurai nodded politely at the City Person who offered his lantern in aid. Suddenly, he didn't feel quite out of place, but only because of the confusion that occurred seconds before. The horrendous girl that the irritated Book Child was searching for didn't appear (cosmetically speaking, of course) to Akihiko as something guarded in beauty. He'd never seen such a wraith amongst the Book Children, and he truthfully didn't want to invest his time in an expedition for her. But...he would blame himself if he didn't--this he knew. He was already late to the festival, ergo, the samurai figured he'd try his best not to ruin the night for himself nor anyone else. He tried his hardest to suppress a chuckle from escaping his lips. The Book Child robed in purples was growing more irate by the second; it really didn't match his demeanor at all! It was all very funny to Akihiko, the blunder of it all!

Is she even worth salvaging? Children these days--wasting their time on needless abundances. Why, when I was a young samurai, women just followed me like the wind!...this particular boy seems to be rather cursed with a wraith. Pity, pity.

The magpie-esque City Person's introduction brought Akihiko back to the present.

"Akihiko," he offered, shaking the City Person's hand with his own. At the second question, he added, "Yes, that information would be valuable for our interests. Boys these days seem to lose everything."

With a sly wink to the trio, he added, "If you know what I mean,"

Oh, Akihiko. The night is still young and already immaturity is seeping into your sense of humor.

Sometimes, Akihiko humored himself.

Myopia nodded, his expression unreadable as he watched the Book Child with the black feathers snap at each of the others assembled there in turn. Then, as the one missing a friend finished with the lamplighter himself, he smiled. It sounded, if he had to judge, like love, but so harsh to everyone else! A welcome relief from the usual lovers cooing over each other constantly, in public or in private. It was refreshingly different, and so Myopia decided that the Book Child's tone did not bother him in the slightest.

"I will do what I can for you then," he replied. "The others will want the square dim for the fires and the festivities and all that, but personally, I think we could really use a change of pace. Start with the lighting, and all that." Round white eyes disappeared as he closed them, and Myopia shifted his weight to one foot, holding out a hand, palm up, as he went on to his new audience, "The tradition is lovely and all, but it wears on those of us who have seen it all umpteen times! The missing books, now that was originality there. And now a missing person? No offense, sir, but it may make for an interesting tale for next year, provided it all turns out well...."

And so on, until he realized they were making introductions. Not one to go unnoticed, the lamplighter let his thoughts on the celebration trail off, and now bowed with a flourish and carefully pronounced his own name for them: "I am Myopia, and I will be around, probably near the fringes, should you require my assistance with the lighting at any point during your search. A pleasure to meet all of you."

The grumpy book child finally admitted his name, but before Rosco could even bluster a 'Pleased to make your acquaintance' (something he wasn't entirely sure was a true statement anyway), he left. The magpie man looked at the Vlad-shaped hole in the crowd helplessly for a moment, then let out an "Ah."

Ah. He looked back down at his sketchbook and opened it once more now that the doodling, disruptive boy was gone, fingers flipping to the sketch of the girl they were supposed to be looking for. Now that Vlad was gone, he could just go back to drawing if he wanted, but he found himself unable to seriously consider the thought. He had been tasked to find someone! The detectives he read about wouldn't just go back to whatever they were doing, even for the most unpleasant client. So reluctantly, Rosco turned to Akihiko and Myopia, who were at least around.

"Um, terribly pleased to meet you, gentlemen. This is the girl here, in my sketchbook. Well, obviously not her, but yes. Her." He fumbled around for his pencil and flipped to a blank page, reproducing the hideous sketch that Vlad had drawn twice before ripping the pages out of his notebook and handing one to each of them.

"Jolly good, right? I suppose we'd better start looking. Mr. Akihiko, might you be able to call her name for us? I fancy the voices of your people carry a bit better than ours," he explained, nodding at the other City Person in their trio.

Akihiko nodded lightly, glad to be of assistance. He was feeling quite useless with his arrival and it was unbecoming of him. The samurai collected his respective sketch from the City Person before he cleared his throat and shouted into the crowd:

"ESTRA!" he called, though half-humored. "ESTRA! ESTRA THE GIRL, YOU HAVE AN URGENT SEARCH PARTY PINING FOR YOU."

He winked at Vlad here, then continued his fun.

"A LOVELY BOY MISSES YOU. HIS HEART CALLS TO YOU, ESTRA--"

Akihiko covered his mouth before a rumble of laughter could escape from it. He did love children so!

“What’ll it be?”

Talulah had been unconsciously moving along, and bringing Estra with her, as the line got smaller and smaller. But her attention was focused mostly upon Naoya so that when words suddenly floated past her face, Tali stared at them in a great deal of confusion. Large, bold letters are hard to make out when an inch from your nose.

Once she’d realised it was the strawberry ice lady talking, Talulah did a quick turn and gave a bright smile. “We’ll have three please!” The goldfish turned her head to grin at Naoya; eyes sparkling with delight. The look she gave him clearly said ‘you’re going to pay for us all, right?’ and her hand slipped out to grab Estra’s wrist before the other could reach for her purse.

It something she didn’t even realise she was doing; just a natural inclination to make sure somebody else took care of her and Estra.

Estra, Estra… was somebody calling her friend’s name? The crowd was mostly made up of City People, their words almost a barrier to push through at times, a shout was not too hard to hear above the chatter of the Book Children, the music and the crackle of fires.

But they could check it out after. Tasty drinks were more important right now.

The books weren't very long in coming after the first. The other two City People who brought them were much kinder about it than disagreeable ol' Vlad had been, telling her how kind it was of her to forfeit her own fun for the books. The Book Child girl just smiled. She would have many more chances to enjoy the Night of Stories, but who knew how many more days she would have with her dear "father?" With that in mind she went to seek him out at the fire where he would be reading the first book.

He wasn't there, though. In fact, he'd never shown up, they said. She frowned. That was strange. Perhaps he'd been waylaid by a friend somewhere. So she sat down with the poor, patient people who had come to hear stories and read them one or two herself. More than once they complemented her on how nice and clear her young voice was, and how nice it was to be able to close their eyes and visualize the stories... something that couldn't be done when a City Person read. It made her heart a little lighter. Maybe she would volunteer and get her own storytelling fire in the future.

But after she'd gone through a book (although it wasn't a very long book at all) and he still hadn't shown she began to worry. She excused herself from the fire to go looking for him. Walking around through the crowd made it clear she wasn't the only one searching for a lost person - some girl named Estra was missing too apparently, judging by the loud calls about some guy who was missing her with all his heart or something. For a moment the Book Child girl considered asking the other group to help her find her City Person friend as well, but that seemed rude. She searched on alone.

She found him in a darkened side-street, mostly by chance. She'd gone around the square more than twice by then and at a rather brisk pace and had only paused there by chance to catch her breath. He was leaning against the wall, looking at the ground. "There you are," she said. "What are you doing over here?"

But he said nothing in return. Her heart seemed to jump. "What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" She said, louder, quicker. Nothing. She reached out and grabbed his arm. "Hey-"

His neck yawned open and his whole body fell toward her. The other side of him was splattered in the bright, almost incandescent red of his blood but until that moment his high collar and the shadows had hidden it from her and everyone who might have passed by. The scream in her throat wanted to burst into life, her feet wanted to run, but only air would come out as she stood and stared at the blood. That his body fell and thumped on the ground, fully intact despite being fully dead, and the fact that his book was nowhere to be found was a significance lost on her. But it was enough to free the scream and her legs. She ran.

News of the dead man traveled through the square almost as fast as she did. The words hung in the air so thick that they were like a pall over the festival, and some of the more morbid attendees even were able to catch a glimpse of him before the city guard and the constable and half a dozen other officials had surrounded the body and blocked it from view. One might suppose such news would have cleared out the square faster than a wildfire and some people did leave, but for the most part the city People had simply stopped dancing and stood where they were, weaving words of concern and confusion.