Ijemaru let his pen hover over his paper as he listened to the woman. Her words were not quite what he'd expected, specifically "beautiful" came as a surprise. "Ah, yes. Thank you," he said quickly. The white-haired boy turned and watched the orange-clad girl for a moment as she walked away, then quickly copied down her words. He hadn't gotten the opportunity to ask for a name, so he just labeled the quote "anonymous". After double-checking to be sure he'd copied her words properly, Ijemaru ran a hand through his hair. He got all sorts of reactions from people-- being a reporter. Sometimes they introduced themselves and suddenly became kind, telling him all about their invention or accomplishments or whatever else, and not answering his questions. Others would politely tell him what he asked and then move on. Some like this girl would answer quickly so they could be on their way, and others would storm past him, determined to keep the media off their tails. Then there were a few odd balls who would run away as if they'd done something wrong... those people worried him.<br/><br/>Either way, he had a job to do. It was really annoying that he wasn't allowed to take pictures of the exhibits, but maybe if he talked to some of the personnel they would allow him to take a picture of the entrance to the exhibit: the banner above, people below, and some snippets of paintings and things in the distance, but not close enough to be a problem. Something like that would be good to put in the paper; better than just a picture of the museum from outside anyway.<br/><br/>Seeing no museum officials anywhere nearby, Ijemaru turned toward where he remembered the reception counter to be. It was mandatory for places like that to be manned as long as the museum was open, so even if there wasn't someone there he could get authorization from, hopefully whoever<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>there could direct him to the right people.<br/><br/>The young reporter came to the reception desk and waited quietly beside a young man and a little girl. It looked like the girl was lost and the man had found her. Nice guy. After a moment, another man at the desk called to him. "I can help you over here," he said. "Ah, thank you," Ijemaru responded, moving to stand across the desk from this other man. "My name is Ijemaru Hisuka, and I'm doing a report on the new exhibit here for the Tokyo Times. I'm aware that I'm not allowed to take pictures of the exhibits, but I was hoping I could get a photo of the entrance to "Eden"."<br/><br/>The man frowned. "I'm sorry, you'll have to get that cleared with higher personnel, sir," the man said.<br/><br/>"That's alright," Ijemaru assured the man. "Can you tell me where I can go to talk to some "higher personnel"?"<br/><br/>"Ah, yes," the man said. "Down that hall, you'll see a counter labeled "Guidelines and Permissive Clearance". Talk to the people there and they can help you."<br/><br/>"Thank you," the reporter smiled. "While I'm here, do you have any comments you'd like to make on the new exhibit?"<br/><br/>The man gave a sheepish smile. "I actually haven't seen it yet. Sorry."<br/><br/>Ijemaru lowered his pad again. "I see. Well thank you anyway." He turned to the young man and little girl beside him, stepping up and introducing himself once again. "Would either of you like to say anything about the new exhibit?" he asked after his introduction was finished.<br/><br/>--------------------------<br/><br/>Frahlah began to absently wander the exhibit and more or less stopped paying attention to where he was going. Suddenly, he felt himself bump into something, and feared he'd hit a sculpture. The carny looked down to see the source of the impact to, in fact, be a little girl. Well... not a little girl. He couldn't have more than two years on her, yet he stood at a good head taller than her. She had long black hair and big blue eyes; not a very imposing girl, but an exceedingly beautiful one.<br/><br/>"I'm sorry!" Frahlah said to the girl, stepping back and giving her some space. As he spoke, his slight accent rang through. He wasn't hard to understand, but one might confuse themselves trying to place the foreign tinge in his tone. "I forgot to look where I was walking."