Watanabe Haruhi: A man of business, suave, and not being either of the two aforementioned things. He found himself awake in the workshop, having fallen asleep on the desk where he had been… "What was I doing?" He turned his head to find out the answer: a pile of papers lay right next to him. "Ah, right. Proposals to improve the printing press. That I needed to deliver to the printworks… uhm… yesterday." His head instantly perked up "Oh. Oh crap."

With great panic Watanabe rolled the papers up, put them under his shoulders, and before he could even process anything he saw, he had run to the printworks. Watanabe crashed through the door, panting like a dog under the summer sun "Excuse me!"

"Eek- oh, it's Watanabe." Azra Inkwell had fallen on to the ground, Shakira had drawn her sword towards the door, and a man that Watanabe didn't realize was just kinda standing there. "Phew, you shocked me there. Don't rush in like that."

"Apologies, I just needed to deliver these." Watanabe left the pile of papers on an empty press. Speaking of, the entire printworks was empty except for these three. "What's with all this quiet? Also, why is Shakira in a dress, and what's the deal with this other guy?"

Azra shook her head, groaning a bit internally "Both are because of the New Years. Everyone is off work today so that they can prepare, and I was just helping Shakira pick something to wear for the celebrations before you interrupted us."

The 'other guy' butted in "Billy, sir. Shakira brought me in so that I could meet the lady to get a job here. I got caught up in all this celebration biz before I knew." He was holding a mirror pointed towards Shakira, which he had been doing for almost an hour by this point on the orders of his employer.

Shakira herself had finally calmed down and put her comically oversized blade down. She sat down, legs and arms crossed in a fashion that conflicted with the elegance of her dress. A silk dress, embroidered with roses and other flowers that Watanabe couldn't name, complete with frills and a spiffing hat. Her hair had been combed to perfection by Azra, though one's eyes tended more to focus on the giant scar next to Shakira's eyes rather than her hairdo when looking at her head. "What are you looking at? You don't look much better."

"Do I?" Watanabe realized that he hadn't looked at himself in a mirror since he dropped in to Gemeinplatz. Not that he hadn't tried – but mirrors were quite rare in a world where they were made usually made out of silver. "Can I borrow that for a sec?"

"Hm? Sure." Billy handed Watanabe the mirror, who quickly turned it towards his face. It was the clearest image that he had gotten of himself in a long while – and Watanabe had to agree. He didn't look good. His hair, usually already messy by its nature, had started to look as wild as Shinasi's hair. His facial hair, normally clean cut as any good office worker's is, had begun to form a beard for the first time in Watanabe's life. One thing that had stayed intact was his blue blazer, red tie and jeans, perfect business casual even in another world.

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"Oh, goodness. I need to shave." Now, that was certainly a problem to have. "Where… how do I shave around here? Razors? Shaving cream? Do you have any of those?"

Billy scratched his clean-shaven chin "I don't know what a shaving cream is sir, but we have razors. The guys over at the copperworks sell them for very cheap."

"Copperworks? Right, those guys have everything." Watanabe bowed farewell to the dress-up group, and made the short distance from the printworks to the copperworks. He hadn't actually bought anything for himself yet, for he had a knack for borrowing whatever he needed from others and surviving off of that. "Razor, razor…" He headed to the nearest stall packed with copper whatnots "Razor?" he said while making a shaving motion with his hands.

"Razor?" replied the salesman emptily, before realizing that he was being requested one. He searched around the stall until he handed Watanabe a razor… a straight razor.

"What…" Watanabe fumbled around with what he had been handed. It had a handle, and long blade at the end that folded into the handle. "Is this a knife? This is not a razor."

"That's a razor?" Watanabe fumbled with the thing he was handed even more, getting more puzzled by the second. "How do you even use this?"

"Like this." The shopkeeper procured another razor for himself. Then he simply put the knife on his cheek, a bit close to his neck, and slid it up, cutting a few strands of hair along the way.

Watanabe held his breath, thinking that the man was about to stab himself, but he was fine and uninjured. He looked at the razor in his hands, shaking. Was he supposed to swing this thing around right next to his eyes and throat? It looked suitable for trimming people wide open rather than trimming their hair. He raised the razor up a bit, then down, before giving up and handing the razor back with an apology. There was one last person who Watanabe though could help him…

"Old man!" Watanabe barged into the office of the Commander-in-Chief "I am in need of urgent help!"

"Oh?" Brown jumped up from his seat upon hearing of the word 'urgent' "What is urgent, young man? Do you need troops? Spears? A canon?"

"No, I need to shave my face!" Watanabe ran up to Brown and his magnificent beard "Tell me your secrets! What do you use?"

"What…" Brown opened a drew in his desk and took out a straight-edge razor. "I use a razor, of course. The dwarves gifted me this one."

"You too? O' cruel fate…" lamented Watanabe upon seeing the sight of the dreaded blade. "Doesn't anyone here have a normal razor?"

"This is a normal razor, though?"

"Of course, you'd call that a normal razor…" Watanabe looked again at the 'normal razor'. It was sharp. Bright. Intimidating. A relic of a bygone era he'd normally have never experienced. There was only one thing he could do at this point. Give a polite bow, and "Please teach me how to use it."

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