Chapter 2. Yeah


"That'll be 8000 lien per, Whitey," a certain orange haired man in a bowler hat says as he puffs out cigar smoke directly into my face.

"I'm a paying customer, you know," I say with a scowl on my face as I reach into my wallet. "No need to be so rude."

I say that but I actually have no idea whether I have enough money in my wallet or not. Or even the currency of this world. I really hope Roy didn't end up eating all the lien we sto—obtained legitimately again.

I start counting out wads of cash, only to come up 100 lien short to pay for transcripts for a team of four. Taking a quick but subtle glance at Roman, it's obvious he knows too.

"How about some haggling, Mr. Torchwick?" I suggest, only to get a puff of smoke blown in my face. Again.

"No thanks, Whitey, the deal's good where it is right now," He says cockily, tilting his head to the right.

"Can you at least stop with the smoke?" I say, only to have the same thing happen again. "Paying customers only."

If I weren't so used to dealing with the sins, I probably would have lost it by now.

"Look, if you don't have the money, then we can wrap this night up," Roman says, looking at a watch on his wrist that doesn't exist. "Got a lot more important business to attend to this evening than being here in this dump."

A very tall man in a black vest and red tie behind the counter of the bar shoots daggers at Roman.

"No offense, of course, Junior," he says before turning back to me.

"Give me five minutes and I'll get your stupid 100 lien—how about that?" I say, a determined glint appearing in my eyes — at least I think one did.

"And what if you don't? I am a busy man after all," Roman said with a smirk, clearly enjoying his position in this exchange. "I'm thinking of double the price a week from now."

This was not a favorable deal at all. A smart person would try to negotiate to change it to a lower price.

"Deal."

With that being said, I stylishly got out of my stool and marched on over across the bar to do a time tested strategy for acquiring money in a short amount of time.

"Hey, can I bum a 100?" I say valiantly to the wealthiest, kindest looking patron I could find: a grey haired vampire looking fellow with a five o'clock shadow. He even had red eyes to complete the look.

Now that I think about it in retrospect, he was neither wealthy nor kind looking. Those dozen or so bottles of beer piled on the table weren't helping his case either.

"A 100? What does a kid like you need that kind of money for?" He says, looking at me like I'm sort of a fool. How silly. Could a fool take over a world almost single-handedly?

"Sorry, kind sir, my dearest sister Sally is dying of cancer and the doctors say I'm 100 lien short for her treatment," I say, putting on my best downtrodden face. I was a very talented liar in Lugnica, no one ever catching my numerous deceptions.

"Kid, you're terrible at lying," the vampire flatly said, staring me dead in the eyes with a disappointed look. "You couldn't even fool me, and I'm drunk off my ass."

What was this guy, a professional lie detector? Not even the Divine Protection of Wind Indication could tell when I was lying! It's either that, or everyone was too intimidated to call me out. No, that can't be possible. I'm a very harmless individual when I act like it.

"How about this then," I start, leaning on the table to the man's face enough to smell his alcohol laden breath. "A game of rock paper scissors, and if I win, I get the 100 lien, and if I lose, I go in debt to you for 1000 lien."

The man maintained an unreadable expression, which soon turned into a sigh. The vampire then put a fist on the palm of his other hand.

I openly beam at this, stars forming in my eyes as I mirror his hand gesture.

"You're lucky I'm too drunk to care about money right now," he says, giving me a look of what looks like… pity? How infuriating! Once I conquer this world, I shall subject this disrespectful bloodsucker to an open sun, garlic filled prison cell.

But I can put such petty notions aside for now. I had him. Little does he know, I wholeheartedly plan on cheating to win this rock paper scissor match using my Authority.

"Rock…"

"Paper…"

"Scissor…"

"SHOOT!"

I put out rock. He put out paper. No biggie. Using my authority, I changed my choice to be scissors instead.

"Looks like I win," I say with a triumphant grin on my face. "Now, where is my 100 lien?" He has a very clear look of confusion upon looking up at my face, like he can't believe what his eyes are showing.

"There's no way you're serious right now," he said incredulously. He then stood up abruptly and leaned close to my face, his gaze piercing into my very soul. "You very obviously changed your move from rock to scissors after you already put your hand out."

"...Perhaps your eyes deceived you?"

"You know what?" the vampire said with a sigh, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wallet. "You obviously need the money and I would have to get even more wasted to erase the bad consciousness of keeping money from a kid who doesn't even own shoes."

I mentally huff at this. If he wants to deny that he lost the match, then so be it. But I'll be the bigger man in this scenario and happily take my prize, regardless of whether he admits my victory or not.

"Thank you, kind sir," I say, collecting my precious earnings as I try to limit the smug grin on my face. I am extraordinarily humble, after all.

"Just remember, if you need a safe place to stay, orphanages, while bad, are better than being cold and alone out on these streets," he stated, looking at me with so much pity that I could be mistaken for a kicked, starved puppy.

"I'll keep that in mind in case I… meet any orphans," I say, trying to get this conversation to end. I really have no idea what he's trying to say. Perhaps he's just trying to deflect from his humiliating defeat by spouting nonsense?

I quickly wave him off and head back on over to Roman, who's now dying of laughter with some weird ice cream colored girl now stanced next to him. It looked like she was laughing too, but she was doing that silent type of laughing where no sound actually came out.

"Oh, man, Whitey, I feel tempted to let you keep the 100 after that exchange," he says, wiping the last tears from his eyes. "You certainly used every asset you could to get that money. Didn't think you were that desperate to get into Beacon."

Maybe this is some cultural phenomenon I'm not getting. Are rock paper scissor matches taboo in this world? Whatever, it's not like it matters right now, although I'll keep this in mind for later.

"Money is money, Mr. Torchwick, and I honored my half of the deal," I state cooly, slamming down the lien onto the bar counter.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll make sure to get your transcripts to the mailing address you gave me in two days' time," he says, counting the money at inhuman speeds before stashing it in his wallet. "Well, I can say that it was definitely a pleasure to do business with —"

He's cut off as a large blade swings directly at him, letting off a loud clang as it's stopped by the ice cream girl's parasol of all things.

I look at the user and it's the vampire of all people. Damnit, does he want revenge for his loss by taking it on the man who is going to secure my route towards world domination?

"Roman Torchwick!" he snarls as he jumps back, blade still at the ready. "I knew you were a morally reprehensible motherfucker and was willing to let you fly under my radar tonight. But using kids? Especially ones you found off the street? That's fucked up, even for you."

Yep. If the alcohol on his breath earlier didn't confirm it, that man is 100% drunk. That ice cream girl is no doubt short enough to be a child, but her body is way too developed to be one. And off the street? Those clothes don't look very cheap to me. It doesn't look like he's ready to listen to reason, judging by his expression, so I'll wait this out on the sidelines. I would feel bad for the bar owner for what's about to happen to this establishment, but he wasn't exactly the nicest when I tried to get into contact with Roman.

"Look, Mr. Huntsman, I think we've come to a misunderstanding," Roman calmly stated, as if he were in control of the situation. "How about we both put down our weapons and negotiate this like civilized people? I doubt Junior here will appreciate us trashing his bar, Branwen."

He gestured to the owner of the establishment, who is currently being flanked by two identical looking girls, the only difference being their color schemes. They reminded me of Rem and Ram, and just like them, seemed to have the same hatred and defensiveness in their eyes as when I sicced gluttony on said oni twins.

"I'm not going to get dissuaded by your mental gymnastics, Roman," the vampire huntsman spat. "I know I saw a kid beg me for a good amount of money, who, need I remind you, is wearing nothing but a sheet of fabric, proceed to then walk up to you and give you said money as you laughed your ass off."

Hold on, when did this happen? Did I miss something? And why is he acting on it now of all times? The bloodsucker looked like he believed what he was saying, which leads to me believing that either he's delusional or that Roman is a dirty criminal who would use disadvantaged children to obtain money. Honestly, I could believe either one. Roman does seem rather shady, after all.

"I was approached first, you know," the dirty criminal stated, casually lighting a cigar and taking in a long inhale. "Kid couldn't pay for the job I was offered, mind you, so I simply asked for the missing money to make it a deal. I assure you I had no input in how said money was obtained. And don't worry about the job; no one should be harmed by it, at least directly." He mumbled that last part under his breath. "So how about you and I both throw down our arms and continue this fine night as if nothing ever happened? That way you, I, the kid, and Junior all walk out of here happy."

Wow. Admitting his true colors. What kind of monster does underworld business deals with a literal child, regardless of how much they paid? Gonna have to look into viable alternatives to this creep. I knew something was wrong when I noticed his resemblance to the guy from A Clockwork Orange.

The tension is high in the scene as both sides stand off against each other, the vampire brutally dismembering Roman with his intense gaze, while Roman lackadaisically smirks back at him, as if daring him to come and attack him.

Dracula's hands tremble in hesitation on the grip of his sword before his eyes soften ever so slightly. He then focuses his gaze on me, the look not having any aggression displayed: only sympathy.

"Tell me the truth, kid," he says with a stern look on his face. "And don't worry about this bastard and his midget right now. I'm a huntsman, and a damn good one at that; I can protect you from them if it comes down to it. If he's holding someone you care about hostage, I can handle it. Hell, I know a few parents who would love to take in a new member to their family. So, what do you say?"

Wait, he's talking to me? I kinda zoned out of whatever he just said. No matter. In situations like these, there's only one solution to make sure I play both sides and come out on top.

"I reserve my right to remain silent."

For some reason, the huntsman tenses at this and immediately dashes at the criminal duo, Roman quickly flashing me a look that said "Why the hell did you say that?"

However, once again, the neapolitan themed girl deflects the huntsman's blows, as Roman steps back and starts firing projectiles at him using his cane. Weird. Didn't think that would work like that.

I have to give credit where credit is due: the huntsman definitely wasn't lying about his skills. The ice cream girl seems like she's quite good, with fast reflexes and a strange illusion causing power. In spite of that, the huntsman always has her on her toes, and always seems just a millisecond late to doing major damage to her, most likely due to having to dodge Roman's shots at the same time.

She persisted in dodging all his attacks well. That is, until she slipped on a conveniently placed banana peel and fell to the floor with a cartoonish thud.

Seriously, when did that get there?

The huntsman immediately takes advantage of this stroke of bad luck, knocking away her weapon with his sword before picking her up by her leg and repeatedly slamming her into the floor. Roman looks too shocked to fire any more blasts, and instead gawks at the scene like a moron. I don't blame him. What's his sword for if he's just going to use such primitive methods?

Though she tried squirming and using her illusions to get out of his grip, it was clear that her fighting style relied entirely on not getting caught, as she ended up looking like a shapeshifting toddler being held by an adult. A very abusive adult, but still an adult.

Really, I felt more bad for the floor. It looked like it was made of expensive wood, and there are sizable dents and holes starting to appear from the swinging of the girl.

During this assault I start to think. This guy was going to win. The girl is obviously better than Roman, and the huntsman is better than her by a long shot. If Roman loses, then I don't get transcripts, which means I can't go to Beacon. If I can't go to Beacon, that means I can't get connections. If I can't get connections, I can't take over the world. This was bad. Roman needed to get out of here.

I looked at Roman, who's still frozen in shock. He came here because I told Junior I had business with someone who could forge documents, which means he's technically here because of me.

I smirked.

Eventually, the vampire dropped the girl to the floor, and she didn't get up. If I were to look closely, there were swirls in her eyes and a halo of stars dancing around her head.

The huntsman turned towards Roman, or I should say, the spot where Roman was. He was gone. Must have had a secret teleportation ability. Even Junior looks shocked, and he has a knack for information gathering.

The huntsman looks around for possible exits before silently cursing to himself and walking towards me, stopping with a quick, deep breath, and a slight, but warm smile on his face.

To my surprise, he suddenly embraces me in a large, tight hug.

"Don't worry, you're safe now," he says like he's as sure of it as the sky being blue. "Roman can't hurt you anymore. I'll find you a home, I promise."

"W-What are you talking about?" I stammer out, much to my dismay. I'm too caught off guard from trying to figure out why this drunkard is laying his child abuse prone hands all over me to push down my shock.

To this, he pulled away and started ruffling my hair as he let out a warm chuckle, causing me to make an extremely embarrassing facial expression.

"We can discuss where you'll be later," he says, still maintaining eye contact with me, before gesturing for me to hold his hand. Was this guy flirting with me? I hesitate before taking his hand and walking with him out of the establishment.

"Now that he's not here, care to tell me what an adorable little girl such as yourself is doing working for that man?"

Oh. That explains everything. I spent so long like this that my own appearance completely slipped my mind.

ALMOST A YEAR AGO…

It has currently been one day since I have been isekai'd to Lugnica, and I gotta say, it sucks. I am currently wandering the woods like a chump with nothing but 4 slices of bread and a small canteen of water. It's dark, I don't have a light source, and the air is cold enough for me to shiver.

At least I'm not dead. I don't even know if I'll be able to Return by Death or not if that happens. I don't have any weapons on me and certainly don't know magic, so if I come across a mabeast, or god forbid, the Witch's Cult, I'd most certainly be dead meat.

I continue thinking to myself as I unknowingly walk into a wall and fall down on my butt with a very unmanly squeak.

I look up to see that said wall was none other than the leader of the Witch's Cult I'd been dreading. Pandora, the Witch of Vainglory, a person who could rewrite reality with nothing but words, was standing over me with that same creepy grin she always had in the show.

"Um, good morning?" I say, trying to hide my nerves to the best of my ability. I can't tell if it was working, as her facial expressions, or lack thereof, gave me nothing to work with.

"It's the evening," she states in a soft, yet imposing voice.

"Oh right," I say awkwardly, starting to stand up.

As I fully stood up, it's at this moment I realized just how small Pandora was. I'm pretty average sized myself, but she looks like she could pass for a 10 year old. If I didn't know better, I would think I was the one in power here.

"Is something the matter?" she asks, gazing into my soul as if it were under a microscope.

It took every bit of willpower to not let my nerves get to me. If I didn't play my cards right, I was going to die. While I don't know exactly how trigger happy she is, I could gather from the light novels that she's rather secretive about her identity and is not afraid to ruin entire families' lives for said secrecy.

"Yeah, I was thinking that we should do a rock paper scissors match, where if I win, I get all your powers, and if you win, you do with me as you please," I say, hoping she'll buy my deal. I realized that as soon as I said that I was asking for too much. This was a mistake.

"I don't see why not," she said with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. "I don't plan on losing anyway."

That was surprising. She must want to play with her food today. But I don't plan on being defeated easily. Now the chance of me living was 50%, as opposed to the 0% from before. But that would be if I planned on playing fair. Notice I didn't specify the rules of rock paper scissors in this scenario. I had her. Little does she know, I wholeheartedly plan on cheating to win this rock paper scissor match using tactics I learned from the playground.

"Rock…"

"Paper…"

"Scissor…"

"SHOOT!"

She put out paper. I put out gun. Gun beats paper. Gun also beats rock and scissors. A slight frown appears on her face, before her face returns to normal just as fast as it changed.

"Looks like I lost," she said, sending shivers down my spine. Her tone of voice was not making me feel like I won at all. "Time to honor my end of the deal. I am a woman of my word after all."

My heart was racing. Yep, I was going to die right now. Why did I think that a psychopath who has lived for several centuries would honor a stupid one-sided rock paper scissors game by some random guy in the woods? We didn't even make a soul binding contract!

She put the palm of one of her small, porcelain like hands on my chest as I tightly closed my eyes and hoped for the best. People always say they'll go down swinging, myself being one of them once, but they clearly haven't been in a situation so terrifying you can't even move.

I kept my eyes closed so long they started hurting. After what seemed like an hour, I focused away from the flashes of my life and anxious thoughts and back to my senses, and I shockingly didn't feel any palms touching me anymore.

Cautiously, I opened my eyes. She was gone— several looks around at my surroundings proved that. No time seemed to pass by at all. Then again, there weren't exactly any clocks nearby to tell.

Oddly enough, the forest and everything else seemed… higher, if that makes any sense.

Then again, it could just be an issue with perspective to the trees.

I take a step towards a tree and feel the grass between my toes as I walk. Wait, didn't I have shoes on?

I take a look downwards. Long platinum hair. A single white poncho. Snow white skin.

And most damning of all, no shoes.

I couldn't help it as I let out a small giggle, of course, a very feminine one, at the absurdity of this situation.

So that was it, huh? She really did honor her agreement after all. I guess that means I do technically have her power right now.

Well, then, looks like I turned my death into a boon for a comfortable life. Odd how that works. With great power comes great responsibility, though. I have to do something big with this broken power.

I snapped my fingers and stuck a finger to the night sky in a pose.

"World domination it is!" I shout out to the world, breaking complete silence.

A cricket riding a tumbleweed passes by as I'm still in my epic pose.

My eye twitches a little. Now I really wasn't going to go easy on the residents of this world.

CURRENT DAY…

"A cricket riding a tumbleweed, really?" the huntsman, or Qrow, as I learned his name was, said incredulously next to me on the bench. "Look, I understand if you don't want to tell me your story, but if you make one up, at least make it believable."

"That really did happen, I swear!" I say with a pout, turning my face away in embarrassment. What? Might as well act my look. "And why is that the part you find most unbelievable?"

"Witches, the Witch Cult, Lugnica, world domination, thinking I'm a vampire, and rock paper scissors," he listed off, leaning back on the bench. "All of those are insane, yet somehow more believable than the tumbleweed and the cricket. Really, all I learned from your 'backstory' is that your name is Pandora."

"That part isn't even true," I mumbled under my breath, not loud enough for him to hear. I then stand up from the bench and attempt to loom over him as much as possible, wearing the most upset face I could pull off. "The point of the story, Qrow, is that I am a responsible adult who was making deals with Roman Torchwick of my own accord and who does not need to be given a home like a child."

After a brief moment of silence, he burst out into a fit of laughter at me. How rude! It turns out he isn't a vampire, so I have to find a substitute for the sunlight garlic cell, but when I do, this guy is in for it!

"Sure thing, Dora." My eye twitches at the abominable nickname. "I'll just walk beside you as you go home, like we're two adult friends. How does that sound?"

I grumble an answer as I figure I don't have a choice in this scenario. From what I can gather from this world, huntsmen are figureheads of the law. It would be rather troublesome if I got in conflict with legal forces this early in my conquest.

As I walk my way home with the pesky middle aged alcoholic, I silently thank my Authority for giving me a location not too far away from Junior's bar. This is because Qrow relentlessly bullies me the entire journey. This treatment includes but is not limited to: noogies, horrible nicknames, making fun of my victories in the world of Re:Zero, and especially bringing up that tumbleweed. In other news, I discovered the most efficient way of draining someone's energy.

"We're here now, Qrow, you can stop escorting me now," I say, bags forming under my eyes as I look like I ran a thousand marathons right after pulling a thousand all nighters.

He scratches his stubble with his right hand, the most irritating smirk laden on his face. "Nah, I think I'll stay here until I see who's on the other side of that door. That sound good?"

I wanted to pull out my smooth and silky hair. Knowing the people I live with, whoever would answer the door was a lottery of the lesser of many evils. God, I hope it's Ram. She likes me too much to do anything to damage my legal standing and reputation.

Going up to the door with a poorly masked irritated expression, I rapped on the door three times and prayed for someone good.

I hear footsteps coming down, quick and light, so not a very large person. Ok, that rules out… actually that doesn't rule out many people. Most of the sins are pretty small or average sized, with the exception of Hector. Re:Zero was written in Japan, after all.

I hear the doorknob turn, and it feels like an eternity passes as the door slowly creaked open.

To my shock, it's not anyone I recognize. Who's standing in front of me looks to be an older, more mature looking version of myself, wearing a blue rimmed white apron that says "Please Exclusively Love the Cook." Upon reading that, I immediately figure out who it is.

"Dora! You're finally home!" she exclaims, throwing herself at me before pulling me into her chest and hugging me very tightly. She lets me free after a very awkward 30 or so seconds, proceeding to clasp her hands on my shoulders and crouching down to my level with a sudden stern expression on her face.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was, young lady?" she asked, voice dripping with the most motherly concern I've heard since Earth. I had to hand it to her— Capella was a very talented actor when she didn't dedicate all her free time to training assassins and torturing 'meatbags'. It was after she said this that she 'noticed' Qrow standing off to the side.

"Oh, were you the one who walked Dora home?" she asked, displaying a look of gratitude as she walked up to the huntsman and grasped his hand in both of hers. "Thank you so much! Honestly, this girl is a walking trouble magnet, what with her habit of refusing to wear clothes and shoes. I feel like she's following more in her deadbeat, abandoning father's footsteps every day. Wait, that sword— don't tell me you're a huntsman! Please tell me my daughter didn't do anything illegal! She just got caught up with the wrong crowd, I swear!"

She says all of this a mile a minute as Qrow looks at her with the most bashful look a middle aged alcoholic can give. At the same time, he shoots me a smug sideways glance, nonverbally spitting on my epic tale. I can see him ever so subtly mouth the word "tumbleweed".

"No worries, miss, she's not in any trouble, I just found her getting coerced by a criminal," he said. Snitch. If I weren't held down by the law, Qrow would find himself getting many stitches. My 'mom' let out a fake but very realistic gasp of shock and gave me a look of disappointment, anger, and sadness before Qrow continued. "I'm no parent, but I think you should ground her, maybe take away scroll privileges for a month."

I have no idea what scrolls are, but I tiredly glare at him anyway. Capella better not ground me— I can't believe that's a sentence I'm saying. If she does and Qrow spots me again, then I'd just be a kid who escaped from home, who'd then have to receive even more punishment when I return.

"I will…consider that," 'Mom' says, giving me a smirk that I know all too well. Capella makes that face whenever she finally breaks the person she's torturing. "In the meantime, why don't you come in for dinner? It's the least I can do for my daughter's savior."

"As much as I would love to get close to a pretty lady like you, I still have to do my job that I got sidetracked from at the bar," he begrudgingly says, scratching the back of his head. "Although if the offer's still available in a week's time, I'd be down."

We then wrap up and say our goodbyes as Capella and I watch him walk off. The moment he's out of sight, we close the door and Capella immediately shifts back into her default form.

Of course, she's wearing that shit eating grin I know so well.

"Well, it looks like my precious Dora owes me one now — and I know just the favor!" Capella states in a pompous, holier-than-thou voice, a stark contrast to the caring, doting mother she was playing not five minutes ago. She started walking towards a rocking chair as she was twirling her finger in her blonde hair, taking a gentle, painfully slow seat. Capella then pretended to think as she rocked back and forth beyond the speed that chair should be capable of. I simply watched in silence. She then snapped her fingers and stood up ramrod straight, pointing her right index finger directly at me, stars in her eyes. "I know what you can do for me! You wanted to make a student team at Beacon, and those teams have leaders! I demand to become the leader of the team! We shall call it… Team CRPS! Pronounced as Team Corpse."

"Vetoed," I state in a monotonous voice. I was too tired to be dealing with this nonsense. I already had to deal with a 15 minute walk with Qrow, which feels like it sucked the very life force out of me.

"Fine, you don't like corpses, sure, they're a bit too grotesque for the meatbags here," she starts, putting her finger to her chin. "What about CRSP? Pronounced as crisp. Or CSPR? Pronounced as Casper. I could go with either, honestly. Let me think about it. Hmmm….. GAH! This is taking too long! You make my decision for me instead. Pandora the merciful and magnificent, please give me your everlasting love and make my dreams come true by deciding which team name to go with!" She was now dramatically touching her forehead to the floor, bowing to me as if I were some god, despite the sins literally being the only people in the other world who didn't worship me.

I looked around the room, trying to find something more interesting than the hyperactive blonde girl in front of me.

"Hey! Don't ignore me! I'll sic my husband on you! I know that you hate listening to him talk just as much as I do! I'll tell him you were violating his rights! Do you really want to be in the same room as him the next time he goes on another 30 minute rant?"

Has the floor always looked that comfortable? I wonder what it would be like to lie down on it, to gently fall asleep on the wood planks. So tranquil, such an escape from the nuisances I live with.

"Glorious leader? No, stop! The floor is not meant to be slept on! At least go to a couch first! Or better yet, lie down on me! I can become a really fat man, you know. Very soft material. My husband loved it so much when I did it to him that he refused to sleep within the same room as me ever again! Actually, now that I think about it, that isn't a good thing."

What was Capella saying? Probably something stupid about meatbags. Yeah that seems about right. Blah, blah, blah, I'm Lust and I can shapeshift. Look at me, I'm such a scary dragon but I'm deathly afraid of large bodies of water! Oh, that reminds me.

"Hey, Capella," I say as I sway back and forth very energetically. "The Atlantic Ocean."

I slowly and gracefully collapse onto the ground for a very well deserved rest as the last thing I saw was Nuisance #2 running around like a headless chicken, literally. Squawking included, somehow.

Although, what was the deal with that creepy red eyed raven perched on the window?