The Midnight Sun

Madame Naoki stands to shake Cyronin’s hand over the desk.

“A pleasure to have you aboard. Allow me to show you to your room.”

She slides the completed paperwork into a folder to be filed away later, and leads the way out of the office, down to the second floor. One the way down the stairs, she considers which rooms are still available. A side-effect of such a massive employee growth was such that they were running out of rooms. Only a handful of second-floor quarters remain unoccupied. Leading Cyronin to one of these empty rooms, she opens the door, and steps inside.

The room is square, nine meters to a side, walls and floor of wood. A single, naked bed sits in one corner. A tall wardrobe and dresser sit to either side of the bed. In another corner, a square table is flanked by two wooden chairs. Next to the door, a small painting of some mountains hangs over a sturdy chest. A circular gray carpet sits in the middle of the floor, and few more bits of furniture and living accommodations fill out the remaining wall space. Overall, the room is well furnished, but a bit dusty, not having been used.

Madame Naoki straightens a mirror above the dresser, and addresses Cyronin.
“Not the worst. This will be your room. Use it however you like. I will send someone over with bed linens and a duster sometime in the next hour. Once you’re settled in, I suggest having a look around, perhaps meeting some of the other staff. If yourself find any problems, with the room, or anything else, come let me know; you know where to find me.”

Assuming that Cyronin doesn’t have anything else to say, Madame Naoki nods in farewell, and returns to her office.

"Corrupt? We're not corrupt."

The twins smile adorably to show the angel just how un-corrupt they are.

I wonder what she means by that.

I dunno.

When she mentions that she doesn't know Hasdrubal, a look of confusion crosses both the twins' faces.

But how did she get wings, if Mr. Hasdrubal didn't give them to her?

I don't know.

"How did you get your wings then, Ma'am? Mr. Hasdrubal gave us ours."

Together, the twins stretch their bloodstained wings, which look remarkably similar to Lum'valia's own.

Surprise flashes across the two little faces.

"You're a dragon?"

She's a dragon?

Hush, she can hear us.

Oh right.

"Wait right here, ma'am."

The twins take off running, sprinting behind the bar and practically diving down the stairs.

"MISTER HASDRUBAAAAAAAAL!"

Upon hearing Hasdrubal's voice, the twins run back upstairs.

"Mr. Hasdrubal!"

They run up close to him, whispering very loudly indeed.

"She's a dragon, Mr. Hasdrubal!"

Madame Naoki descends halfway down the staircase to the bar proper, casting a watchful eye over the proceedings. She is wearing a knitted blue, cabled sweater with a pair of form fitting insulated black trousers. Judging nothing to be amiss, she begins to comb the room for her target, amber eyes sweeping across the room in a regular search pattern.

There he is. White hair, white jacket. Sitting by the bar, with a notepad. Drawing something. She can’t identify the image on his notepad, due to the angle. But that was definitely the person she had been told about. One ‘Raulio Fletcher’. According to the gossip that had filtered into Resse’s files, Raulio possesses an appreciable artistic talent, but is considered irregular by some, for reasons that weren't specified. Hopefully whatever irregularities he may possess wouldn’t stop him from serving her purpose.

She rolls her shoulders, stretching in preparation to approach. The air about Naoki shifts almost imperceptibly, a change brought about by her body language and expressions. She would be polite, mysterious, and alluring. Perhaps Raulio would be susceptible to feminine charm.

Finished with her mental preparation, Madame Naoki descends the remaining half of the stairs with a new gait. She weaves her way around the tables, careful not to touch any patrons she passes. A tilt of the head and jerk of the thumb sends the portly man drinking next to Raulio packing, off to find another spot to enjoy his drink. She sidles into the newly vacant slot, hopping up onto the bar stool to Raulio’s left.

She taps on the bar, and considers how to initiate conversation. He seems rather engrossed in his work.

Naoki’s mug slides down the bar to be caught in her waiting hand, filled nearly to the brim with hot chocolate. Cupping the mug in her hand, she leans back to casually glance over at the surface of his notepad.

A woman. A rather well drawn and magical seeming sort, even. Not anyone she recognized, though. Leaning back down to the bar, she takes a sip of her drink, and considers. It would be ideal if she could have watched him for longer, and gotten an idea of his personality and tendencies before approaching. A silent, drawing man is difficult to read.

She taps on the bar again, this time performing a small series of hand signals. A short time passes before Kevin responds, sliding a tall glass of hot chocolate down the bar. It comes to a complete stop directly before Raulio, tilting slightly before landing upright with a small clink, not having spilled a single drop. An impressive display of Kevin’s drink-sliding skills. The drink would be just the correct temperature, tasting of milky chocolate and spreading soft warmth through the whole body when drunk.

She addresses Raulio, volume low, but with what she hoped would come off as a confident and subtly alluring tone, “Your work is good; have a drink.”

Madame Naoki nods slowly. So he was that sort of ‘irregular’. She examines the candies and considers his words as Raulio scribbles away on his pad.

‘Dubious sexual orientation’...?
‘Moderately apt fashion sense’...?

Well, he was half wrong, at least; Naoki considers her fashion sense to be pretty respectable. The cabled sweater, she thought, juxtaposed with the smooth pleated pants, made for a texturally interesting and nicely complimenting pairing of clothing. Both garments ride the line between form-fitting and cozy, leaving her warm, but not bundled and obscured by multiple layers. He certainly doesn’t have much room to judge, she figures, there’s not even any contrast to his outfit.

As for the candies… something covered in chocolate. They seem appetizing, but she could feel the gaze of Artemis on her back. Even though the candies probably wouldn’t turn out to be poisoned, Artemis would chastise her later for eating something given to her by ‘some bum at the bar’.

Though... Considering Raulio’s behavior... They may very well be spiked with something.

Naoki decides to slip them into her pocket while he’s still occupied writing. Maybe pass them off on The Twins later. That would be amusing, especially if the candies were spiked.

At Raulio’s exclamation regarding his newfound inspiration, she nods, taking another sip from her mug. “I am honored. I am also sometimes referred to as Madame Naoki. If I may be so bold as to inquire, as to your story?”

She intentionally leaves her query ambiguous, intending to take note of how Raulio responds. He could choose to interpret her question as inquiring about the work of fiction he’s evidently writing, or as a query about his own, life story.

Raulio stops scribbling, but rather than turn to Naoki, he seems more amused by the small beetle lapping up the chocolate milk drink. However, he does answer her inquiry.

"My story... Well you see, I was greatly inspired by my recent travels in a port town in Atlanticus. Me, some of my kinsmen, and this lovely mage named Megan joined forces to help stop a local serial killer. Megan..." He pulled himself away from the beetle and gazed up at the lights above them, clasping his hands together in awe of his own memory. "Ah, a lovely mage indeed, and quite powerful." He turned to Madam Naoki, eyes and teeth glittering. "A true work of natural art, not unlike yourself, if I may be so bold."

He then turned back towards his notebook and began flipping through previous pages, which were full of writings. His handwriting was rather neat, and he showed it to Madam Naoki as if seeking approval. "But more importantly, the events inspired me to pursue a novel, about a hero mage and her trusty sidekicks. I also encountered the most fascinating being, a dark, shadowy entity, a perfect villain. And I believe you may have provided inspiration for an anti-hero, or perhaps an enigmatic shop keeper. I'm still deciding."

His attention went back to the beetle, who was done drinking the drop of milk and had returned to giving "pointers" for his sketch. "Ah, I did miss a bit of shading. Thank you my friend." He went back to drawing, but his excitable mind seemed well equipped for multitasking, so he continued to speak. "Thus, I believe I have answered two questions at once, what is my story, and what is MY story? I would ask the same of you, but you only need to answer but one question at once."

Artaxerxes stares for a moment as he enters the room. 

"I... I didn't think... huh."

He hands Reese the ring. 

"I thought the stories were just stories. I didn't know you were really a Lich."

Artaxerxes listens to Reese's statement. 

"I think I get the general gist of the place, Mr. Cresno. I'll ask if I have any questions though." 

Davous would be difficult to find - in the office portion of the Sun.