[After a long morning of wandering the gray city, slipping from district to district, god-house to god-house to get an idea of the kind of place this really is - and nothing to indicate that there will be any sudden return trips to No.6, Nezumi settles onto a shadowed bench and pulls his cloak low enough to obscure his features further ( Read more... )

[Usually, Amaimon would comment on his predicament of being here and then agreeing to stay so long as it's fun. But for once he's actually really quiet. With a childlike curiosity he brings his hand up and touches one of the snow flakes. He watches in awe as it slowly melts on his finger.

After what seems like forever he finally speaks up.]Is this ( Read more... )