Inside of Shizuo's ring is a fish-eye lens view of a chunk of street between Ikebukuro Station and Sunshine City, as if there's a camera suspended several stories high, rotating as you turn the ring to view buildings from different angles. Perpetually at the center of the view is Cinema Sunshine, the large screen at its front constantly flickering through dramatic clips from Baccano various movies currently being shown within; surrounding it are a number of other prominent buildings in the area, such as the Tokyo Hand shopping center, the golden globe of Russia Sushi, and a wealth of other shops/restaurants interspersed with billboards and signs, with the skyline visible above the buildings in the distance. Day and night pass inside the ring at a matching rate to the time of day outside, changing the lighting within; in the evening everything is bathed in an orange sunset, and at night the miniature city holds enough winking metropolitan lights to nearly resemble a small galaxy.
Things move inside the ring as well, tiny cars sliding down the street and countless even tinier people milling along the sidewalks at all hours of the day. Mostly unfamiliar, features difficult to make out, though sometimes there's a glimpse of someone in a lab coat, or a group of three in blue school uniforms, or an especially taller dark-skinned man in white hawking brochures on the street corner. In the mornings there's a van parked on the curb with a varying anime girl painted on one of its doors, surrounded by four people loitering about it. During the day there's a blond woman either on a white motorcycle or accompanied by a man in dreadlocks. At twilight, if you're lucky, a yellow-helmeted figure on a pitch black motorcycle tears down the street in front of the cinema sometimes, there and gone in a flash.
Shizuo won't be wearing the ring, but he'll keep it in an inner pocket of his waistcoat near his heart. On days when his mood is especially bad, he'll find it soothing to take a quiet moment and just watch the little people bustle about in the ring, trying to pick out their tiny faces.
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Baccanovarious movies currently being shown within; surrounding it are a number of other prominent buildings in the area, such as the Tokyo Hand shopping center, the golden globe of Russia Sushi, and a wealth of other shops/restaurants interspersed with billboards and signs, with the skyline visible above the buildings in the distance. Day and night pass inside the ring at a matching rate to the time of day outside, changing the lighting within; in the evening everything is bathed in an orange sunset, and at night the miniature city holds enough winking metropolitan lights to nearly resemble a small galaxy.Things move inside the ring as well, tiny cars sliding down the street and countless even tinier people milling along the sidewalks at all hours of the day. Mostly unfamiliar, features difficult to make out, though sometimes there's a glimpse of someone in a lab coat, or a group of three in blue school uniforms, or an especially taller dark-skinned man in white hawking brochures on the street corner. In the mornings there's a van parked on the curb with a varying anime girl painted on one of its doors, surrounded by four people loitering about it. During the day there's a blond woman either on a white motorcycle or accompanied by a man in dreadlocks. At twilight, if you're lucky, a yellow-helmeted figure on a pitch black motorcycle tears down the street in front of the cinema sometimes, there and gone in a flash.
Shizuo won't be wearing the ring, but he'll keep it in an inner pocket of his waistcoat near his heart. On days when his mood is especially bad, he'll find it soothing to take a quiet moment and just watch the little people bustle about in the ring, trying to pick out their tiny faces.