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Seimei is seated in a booth with a Mac laptop, a paper ledger and a disorganized layer of papers. They range from rather casually written missives inscribed with ballpoint pens on pages torn from legal pads to very formal documents printed on official-looking stationery emblazoned with seals to thick, more primitive varieties of paper written in various archaic forms of Japanese by means of calligraphy brushes.

The Obon Festival starts in about ten days, and just about everyone in the Land of the Rising Sun - including the gods themselves - is busy making preparations.

This particular god isn't too busy for a chat, though.

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As Melpomene passes with her drink, she slows to look at the more archaic dialects.

Most of the old-fashioned writings seem like they came out of the centuries comprising the Japanese feudal period and the Tolugawa shogunate. Several seem even older than that. The oldest are like something out of the eighth century or so. The funny thing is, while these writings are archaic in style, most of them refer to dates in mid-August of 2009. Although that may not be immediately evident, seeing as many of the writings render the date as a certain year in the reign of the current emperor and a particular month on the old Chinese lunar calendar.

Seimei hasn't noticed Melpomene yet. He's attempting to read something off the back of a dirty, crumpled flyer for an anime convention, while muttering about someone's poor handwriting.

While she understands the words, of course, Melpomene's no expert on the Chinese calender. So for all she knows, these have been recently dug up after thousands of years of obscurity.

Of course, it doesn't exactly read like that, particularly since the particular words he's struggling over seem to be an ad for furry costumes.

"What's all this?" she asks, finally.

Seimei jumps in his seat and fairly crackles with magical energy for a moment before he realizes there is no imminent danger. "Oh," he says, "you startled me." (No, really?)

"My colleagues and I are preparing for Obon. A very important holiday. Much to do."

The various writings all refer to Obon, as well as things that are (or need to be) done during it.

"Sorry," she says, appropriately apologetic.

"What do you have to do, exactly? Holidays are generally a time for celebration and relaxation, you know. Not... paperwork."

"Oh, the paperwork is just before the holiday. But that just sets up for what must be done during the holiday itself. Obon is the festival of ancestors, when spirits visit their families in the mortal world. There are lots of people coming and going, and some evil things always try to slip through. Someone has to keep it all organized."

[OOC: Sorry, I am going to bed now, but I should be able to reply in the morning.]

"Good thing you're on top of it, then," she says, sliding into the booth on the other side of the intimidating stacks of paper.

"Don't think I'd be able to tell the difference, myself. Between ancestors and malicious spirits, I mean. Though my ancestors can visit me anytime they want."

It's a source of some annoyance that they don't, in fact, do this very much.

[ooc: no problems! Have a good sleep.]

"A good rule of thumb is that ancestral spirits don't turn into poltergeists, possess people or deliberately cause them misfortune," Seimei advises.

Melpomene snorts.

"Okay. Well, I guess it's made easier by the fact that none of my ancestors are technically spirits. I mean, they're not dead or anything."

Her tone suggests that perhaps she wishes they were.

"Ah." Seimei nods. "I thought so. Obon probably isn't something you need to be concerned about in any case. Unless I am much mistaken, your people donor celebrate that particular holiday."

"No," she says. "I'm Mediterranean, originally."

"Mediterranean could mean a lot of things," Seimei remarks. "In my time there are many different countries in that region, and if you take into account all of history..." He makes a sweeping gesture. "Saying that you are Mediterranean does not tell me much. Of course, vagueness may have been your intention."

She smiles.

"You're quite meticulous. I lived in Greece, actually, when I was young. On a mountain called Parnassus."

"Parnassus...forgive me, but my knowledge of Western cosmologies is not as thorough as I would like."

"It's all right. Really not important, on the grand scale of things."

She adds, "But, for the record, apparently there's quite a good shrine to the muses there."

"Ah! I knew Parnassus sounded familiar. I visited there, years ago. I didn't meet any Muses, although I found a poet there who was looking for them. We talked about haiku and tanka. I wonder what happened to him..." Seimei shrugs.

"Well, we haven't been there in a long time," she says. "Probably a little fruitless to be looking on the mountain."

"Well, when I say 'years ago,' I mean 'two hundred years ago.' But you may have left long before then, with the Hellenes and Romans long gone. By the way, which Muse are you, if you don't consider it an impertinent question?"

"No." She smiles. "My domain is tragic verse. I like to think I've had an influence on at least a few good tragedies."

"In my country, you almost certainly have. In fact, I think we have been paying homage to you for a long time without knowing it. We love tragedy - it is partly a matter of pride, and partly a matter of Buddhism."

She tilts her head, interest piqued.

"Oh? Sounds like my kind of place. I've never actually been to the East, more's the shame."

"Things have changed somewhat in the recent past," Seimei says. By 'recent past' he means 'last fifty years.' "People don't appreciate art the way they used to. But there are books of poetry and stories, and there are old-style plays. I know there are still performances of The Forty-Seven Ronin from time to time."

"Sounds vaguely familiar," she says. "Probably seen the movie."

She adds, more seriously, "It's good, to keep that tradition alive."

"I agree. I'm a great believer in tradition. Although unlike some of my colleagues..." He lifts up one of the pieces of paper, which reminds him of things he used to see back in the Heian era. "...I do not think that just because something sufficed centuries ago, it will be just fine now."

"Well, sometimes it can be for the best to mix things up a little," she says doubtfully, looking at the paper.

Seimei sniffs. "I don't mind getting poems or invitations in the old style, or sending them for that matter, but by merciful Kannon I wish they could bring themselves to use e-mail for practical purposes."

She laughs. "I don't many gods who use email. After all, it's not very traditional."

"That is exactly how they think about it. Some of my colleagues have a more sensible perspective. Mostly they are mortals elevated to godhood, like myself. Although Okami Inari isn't one of those, and she is quite comfortable using a cell phone for text messages and the like."

Saffron drapes herself over the opposite side of the booth, eyeing Seimei curiously.

"Working hard or hardly working?"

"Neither." Seimei rubs the bridge of his nose. "I am in fact being slowly nibbled to death by ducks. Of course I go through this every year: one would think I'd be used to it by now.

"But that is enough complaining from me. How is the universe treating you, Clara-san?" (Of course he knows her name's not Clara, but that's how she introduced herself to him, and it seems only polite to follow her lead in that regard.)

And she knows that he knows, so as far as she's concerned, she finds it rather endearing of him.

She draws her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them

"Very well, thank you. I have no complaints so far."

"Good. The fact that you are enjoying your work thus far reflects well on me, and brightens my mood in spite of the miserable task I am forced to perform." Seimei gestures melodramatically at the papers covering the table.

"I am not going to waste you on paperwork, of course, but I will have something for you to do soon. A sort of on-the-job learning experience. Tell me, what do you know about the Obon Festival?"

She's got a long strand of pearls around her neck, and she idly twines them around her fingers as he speaks.

The name certainly rings a bell, but in her world, it's called something else - or, at least, she's sure it is if they're on the same page.

"It's a custom of honoring one's deceased, is it not?"

Seimei nods. "In Japan it takes place in mid-August, at least in most regions of the country. Ancestral spirits who are usually...well, usually elsewhere are able to visit their families in the mortal world. Some bad things always try to sneak in with them - demons, ghosts from the Nine Hells, other things. So my colleagues and I must be on the lookout for them. You will be accompanying me as I make rounds of some of the riskier areas, though not to fight anything, if it comes to that. You're not quite ready yet."

Saffron wrinkles her nose.

"Sounds like messy business to me."

"It can be. If we do encounter something dangerous on patrol, get to safety. With you fox magic, you will be able to find sacred places where evil beings cannot go. If that isn't an option, just get as far away as you can.

"What you will be doing has the potential to be dangerous, but only if you are very unlucky or very foolish. Most of it will likely be dull, but potentially instructive. You will have to look like a nihonjin." By this Seimei means she will have to look like a native, not a foreigner. "I hope you have been practicing your shapeshifting. It's all right if you have fox eyes, ears, a tail or some combination of all those, but you must look mostly human."

She looks over at him, then nods slowly.

"Haven't exactly made it a top priority or anything, but I've been working on it."

"Good enough. On our rounds, we will be meeting individuals who will be assigned to watch specific problem areas. Some of them are mortals with great spiritual power, but others are kami. To them in particular I want you to seem like a mere attendant, someone who can be briefly noted and then ignored. That will give you the opportunity to observe and listen. You will learn about some of my colleagues, their relative ranks, and the appropriate etiquette when dealing with them.

"Also, you will be carrying my schedule, and if someone starts going on a little long you can ever-so-politely interject to remind me that I have an appointment at such-and-such a place." Seimei always brings someone along to do that.

She's good at that part: slipping away without being remembered, but obviously, she can make an impression if she needs to. And nudging him if they've got somewhere else to be? Well, that doesn't sound too hard.

"Works for me."

"Good. It will be an excellent way to learn proper etiquette: no doubt you've gathered that's important where I come from. It's even more important among denizens of the supernatural world. Even the appearance of disrespect can have dire consequences," he warns, in all seriousness.

"That reminds me, you should know how to bow properly. That is very important. Yuma the plum tree spirit can teach you. You can come find her at my house tomorrow, or I can send her to your apartment - whichever you would prefer."

"Bow properly?"

Saffron lifts an eyebrow - what remains of her Companion training should be enough to suffice in terms of most etiquette and protocol, but bowing? Well, that's the sort of thing that she most likely skipped out on.

"... if you say so."

"This is more complicated than it sounds, believe me," Seimei says. "My colleagues are very traditional, very old-fashioned. They go by the old, very formal rules. How one bows depends upon one's gender and their status relative to the person being addressed. When one bows also depends upon a number of things. You will be able to take your queues from me, but you can only do that if you know the rules.

"Yuma can train you better than I can - she's done this sort of thing before. And I am sure you will catch on quickly. You observe things well, and you have a natural grace."

(Of course Seimei knows that people rarely have 'natural grace': what they have is prior training. But it's easier and nicer to call it natural.)

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