[ So here they are again, back at Krispy Kreme Tokyo Disneyland. At least this time there aren't any giant electric lizards to fight, only a metric ton of equipment that needs to be moved.....mostly by hand. No problem though! Turns out those nanobot injections, blindingly painful though they had been, come in handy during times like these. ]

A — [ If you're struggling, he's quick to step over, one hand outstretched. He's a little sweaty and grimy but there's a smile on his face. ]

Need a hand?

[ Teamwork makes the dream work! ]

B — [ Later, he can be found staring at one of the rides (it's the teacup ride, of course it's the fucking teacup ride), looking very intently at the ON switch glowing a very faint red. Seems like the power might be back on temporarily...? ]

Wonder if it'll actually start if I flip it on....

[ But he can be found staring at all the other rides during his break. Someone encourage him to go on a rollercoaster so his old man spine can crack. ]

[ There is a man nearby who seems to be veering dangerously close to a telephone pole. He hasn't seemed to notice ye—oh no, there he goes, slamming right into that pole facefirst. There's a low grunt of pain, a raise of one hand to rub at his forehead, and then he's back on the road, trying to do his best to keep a straight line down the sidewalk.

Except, two minutes later, he's tripping over a poor dog crossing the sidewalk and swearing a little too loudly. Motherfucker.

Someone please save him from himself and give him a hand. ]

[ Time and worlds may change, but apparently pointless bureaucracy and paperwork remain everlasting.

Which is to say: he's here at the immigration office, papers clutched in one hand and standing in a line he's pretty sure beats even the queue that winds out the front of the Palais Mermonia on the days both Neuvillette and Furina are in office. So much for progress and innovation changing lifestyles.

To make matters worse, he's outfitted in an exceedingly ill-suited (but well-fitted!) dress, trying to ignore the way the lace cuffs at his wrists scratch and itch. For a man in a skimpy dress, he sure seems okay with it...probably because this isn't the first time this has happened to him. ]

So....wanna bet on how long it'll take before we reach the front? I'm gonna guess at least three hours.

[ So sorry, but you're stuck in line with him now too. ]

[ Sorry, I only know how to write stupid prompts. Feel free to throw something else at me or DM me to plan out something specific! ]