Elysium, the Land of Light

[Aleu]

In the southwestern district of Pharos the Librarium, above the alleys of cafes and small boulevards, by the Sebastian clock tower...

There was something unsettling about the even pace of the Sebastian gears, the calm, quiet grind of time's march. The thousands of circular cogs inside of the great iron structure turned precisely and steadily, with nary and interruption save for an occasional a puff of steam from the lower engine rooms, and the silent blue sparkle of wards placed on the metal to prevent rust. The Sebastian tower had no walls to hide the intricate machinery from the day, so the iron shafts and gears glowed a dull yellow-orange in the early morning light. Aline watched from the outer wall of the tower, looking in from her perch on one of the many catwalks that spanned the city sky. She always felt subdued by this place. Doomed, in a way. The clock always seemed so resigned and tired, and somehow unapologetically resigned to its fate as keeper of the hours.

She shuddered, pulling the her robes tighter around herself, and walked a little faster. The Council had requested her presence that morning, and they were not sympathetic towards tardiness. The walk was almost an hour long -- she could have taken the newer rail carriages and gotten there in a quarter of the time, but they were loud, dirty, and often crowded beyond capacity in the mornings. The morning's stinging cold wasn't really her thing either, but it was definitely preferable to the rattling, disease-ridden coaches. Pharos was a pennisular city, surrounded on the sea at all its borders, therefore more than its fair share of freezing cold air came up off the ocean and from the docks and chilled the city itself in the mornings. Luckily the fog never decided to go too far from its home by the water at the city's north edge, so while Aline's morning walk chilled her through her heavy overcoat and robe, at the very least she could see where she was going.

The catwalk intersected here with another one running east-west that went towards the residential South Quarter and the western walls around Pharos, respectively. Aline turned left. The thaumagury reseach labs were just outside of the residential area. A great number of people living in the area protested the proximity of such a high-risk facility to their homes, but the Librarium council never paid them much heed -- at most, protestors were presented with eviction notices asking them to leave the city. To put things like the lives and health of civilians before study was unthinkable to the council. Aline smiled wryly as she walked, the path turning slowly as it traveled over the cobblestone roads and moderately sized, Victorian styled homes beneath her. The council wasn't known for its fair and just treatment of its citizens. Better to live the high life as an academic, where the pay was good, the work was at least engaging and one was afforded just about every political immunity out there -- provided, of course, you did good work.

Here it was. Aline paused briefly, looking down on the squat, E-shaped compound. Such a modest (it was only slightly sprawling) building would never be taken as one of the most important locations in the entire Library at first glance, but trusting appearances was a fast way to a nasty end in the darker corners of the city. She quickly climbed down the ladder (and freed one of the long sleeves of her robe from where it had caught onto the poorly-welded joint at the top of the catwalk) and strode towards the center doors. The trail of her brown robe trailed behind her, kicking up a bit of dust from the dry pavestones (when was the rain coming? It'd be promised for days). It was okay -- she'd change into her uniform once she was inside. She breathed onto her fingers. It really was cold...

[Arynielle]

Sorry for the lateness! It has been a busy week. ;_;

Kerthe Marr graduated at the top of his class as the valedictorian, a favorite among the professors, noted as the best and brightest of his age. A goldmine of potential, his teachers called him, a young man who showed the most promise of his peers, he was brought under the tutelage of a great sage named Amaroth Holtan. After several years as his mentor, Amaroth passed away from disease, leaving Kerthe to carve out his own path as a magician. Kerthe was already far better than most other magic wielders, and he consumed knowledge with bright golden eyes and a settled expression. There was a charming aura about him -- his easy smile and ruffled chestnut hair -- and the ladies of the city flocked to him as though he were some sort of celebrity. As much as he enjoyed the company of these lovely women, he equally valued the time that he devoted to his studies. In fact, he was often found with a book of history or spells in his hand, buried within the contents of these pages, absorbing and analyzing information, sorting it all neatly away in the cavities of his mind for future use.

Knowledge was power. Kerthe was told that from an early age. He held that ideal close to heart, for he knew that the potential of magic could outplay a swordsman's blade. His parents, although not magicians, pushed him to study and learn. However, Kerthe needed little incentive, for the pursuit of knowledge was far more appealing to him than his father's will.

Today would be a great day, for Kerthe had been summoned by the Council. He had his servants iron and polish his clothing, and he made sure to wear the golden crest of his family, the mark of an upper class noble. He even combed his wayward hair, and with a grand flourish of his red cape started toward the building where the Council would be awaiting him. They had acknowledged his achievements and magical prowess in the past, but they had never summoned him on such short notice, and his heart pounded at what opportunity this might have been.

[Shiori Ailill]

((FYI Aleu, Naes will have to be dragged to the Council. Even if he got an invite sent to his house (which he hardly goes to for the safety of his family) if the Council wants to see him that badly, he figures it can't be a good thing.))

Naes stood smoking his cigarette in a shadowy alleyway staring up on the majestic Sebastian Tower as the sun, now fully risen, reflected off of the many moving parts. Little shafts of light creating an intricate dance on the various grime and rust covered libraries of the city. The only thing in the city that looked in perfect condition. A beacon, the eternal watcher, how he envied its perfect system of gears and pulleys that never faltered, never grew weak with disease or age. Each piece with their part to play, none with a burden too great for it to bear.

The young man looked down at his grease covered clothing, a tan long-sleeved shirt with a brown vest that were both too big for him and a pair of brown slacks. With his shirt tucked in it looked like the man had a slight hunchback. A jet of smoke came out from between his lips as his fingers brushed through his hair, adding more grease to the dark locks. Blue eyes surveyed the surrounding buildings. If only the rest of the city was given the care as the Tower.

Naes took one last drag of his cigarette and flicked it at the grime covered ground. He had wasted enough time already, he needed to find a new target. Crushing the remaining embers of his cigarette beneath his shoe he looked back at the Watcher of Time. Even the tower had gears hidden in the dark. One day though, he will reach the top of that tower, and see its morning light show in its entirety.

[Aleu]

-[Aline]-
The inside of the Mycroft Research Center, however, was pleasantly warm. Thaumagurists were not miserly with their gifts when it concerned their own comfort. A small breeze of artificially warmed air blew into the antechamber from a series of thin, slit-like vents along the floor. Her dusty boots scuffed on the heavy granite blocks beneath her feet as she kicked the city's pollen from her shoes. To the far side, a set of heavy steel double doors glowed softly with the light of a complex sigil-lock. The thin smell of old smoke and ash lingered in the air. Burglars and other trespassers were not afforded the luxury of a trial. She gazed absently at scorched cracks in the floor, where dormant fire-cylinders were more than willing to awaken and incinerate anyone who wasn't able to open the sigil properly.

Like the Sebastian tower, this place also put Aline ill at ease. When she stood in here she felt like she could feel the pain of the forcefully departed hanging over her; heavy hands seemed to grasp at her heart, trying to squeeze the life from it. She shuddered despite the warmth, and squickly signed her crest with her fingertip over the surface of the lock sigil. The little white circle of runes and numbers whirled merrily, and the tumblers in the door clanged heavily as they unlocked one by one: Chhnk. Chhnk. Ch-chhnk. She pushed the door open firmly, slipped inside and shut it with a little more anxiety than might considered dignified. Aline paused to allow herself another breath and a long sigh, before adjusting her cloak and entering the foyer.

Unlike the bare and somewhat dirty antechamber, the laboratory concourse was beautiful. It reminded Aline of those airship port, full of people and small eateries lining a long alley of fountains and booths. At this hour it was host to only a few sleepy early morning arrivals, crowding around the two open cafes for a spot of pallirii and biscuit before starting their days. Despite its resemblence to the modern airway terminals, the lab dated itself in its architecture. Clean, polished and smooth, most of the concourse was made of marble, stylized in classical arches and mechanically simple designs full of curves and smooth, easy angles. The place was built to feel organic, in old style. Places like the outer wings of the main Library and many parts of the city itself were built to the new style -- more exposed metal, sharp angles, complex and detailed adornments, but the older buildings still seemed to pulse with a bit of ancient vitality.

The concourse housed a number of cafes settled alongside the main walkway in the center, with small benches and and little (tacky, in her opinion) potted trees along the path as decoration. Near the end of the path, where it turned left (the top-left corner of the E), stood the western light-fountain: it was an imported structure that used currents of air to tumble thousands of droplet-shaped glass prisms through the air under the morning sun, reflecting rainbows all through the hall.

Aline checked the wind-up timepiece in her pocket, winding it up absently with one hand as she walked towards the fountain. Six in the morning. The Council didn't need her for another hour and a half, there was still time to settle in before starting the day. Their chambers were on the top floor of Mycroft. She stopped to slip inside one of the two open cafes, a little rustic, wooden place called the Nautilus. Wood was a rarity in this day and age, and the Nautilus was proudly showed its age through its architecture. The keeper was a far eastern man from Esperanza with a heavy accent named Elmer, and a friend of Aline's since she had started work at the lab.

"Top o' t'morn t'ya, m'boy!" She couldn't ever figure out what kind of language would produce that sort of accent, which sat in the awkward space between an that of a nobleman and perhaps a pirate. It was a soothingly complex sound, though, and his naturally booming voice seemed to resonate with the thick wooden beams of the cafe. He was a big man, very hairy, in his later years and starting to bald on the head, and his naturally copper red hair was turning white at the roots, which she tried not to comment on. He was sensitive.

"The same to you, Elmer," she replied, smiling up at the much taller man and leaving a couple lunes on the polished bar counter. "Pallirii and a biscuit, please. I'll be taking it with me," she said. Pallirii was a popular breakfast food, a sort of hot drink made from water boiled with halved pallirium seeds. Sometimes called "whitewater" for its milky-clear color, it had a distinctive sour flavor that transitioned to a subtle sweetness while in the mouth, and people often added a couple whole seeds at the bottom. Pallirii gained its sour and sweet flavor when boiled, but the raw seeds had a dark, spicy taste to them. The "biscuit" in question was a kind of black-rye bread that often accompanied pallirii; it was baked crisp on the outside but chewy inside, and had a kind of dark, nutty bitterness that complimented the drink well. It was popular with children and younger adults.

"Sho'." Elmer tossed the small silver coins into the lockbox under the counter and turned towards his mess of pots and steepers that lined the back wall of the store behind the counter. Aline let him be, browsing the rows of small pastries under glass dishes along the wood countertop. The Nautilus, true to its wooden decor and homely atmosphere, never tried to sell itself on glitz or shine. Everything was very simple -- the pastries didn't have the small delicate twirls of cream or florally arranged cuts of berries and fruit that were characteristic of most of the nicer cafes (there was a beautiful store at the other end of the lab, the Glass Arboretum, that had things like that. It was built out of clear builder's glass, and was decorated with all kinds of crystal vegetation; the whole place sparkled like the light-fountain. A good place to find nice things for special occasions). Most of Elmer's baked goods were just squares or bars, muffins or simple cupcakes, but Aline preferred the satisfaction of a heavy, filling muffin to the floral, waify biscuits that were becoming popular.

"'ere ya' be." Elmer clinked an insulated, sealed tankard and cloth-wrapped bread onto the countertop.
"Thanks. I'll bring it back tonight." She took the locked-lid cup by the handle and the warm cloth-wrapped bread and left, turning right as she exited through the propped open door and walking down the hall towards the light fountain. The stairs to her lab were located in the far corner, past the fountain and out of the way of the atrium. The hall still felt sleepy at this time: lab workers were paid on salary, so many of them came in late. Normally she wouldn't be here this early either, but curiosity over the Council's request had roused her early. She had reported to them once or twice, and had made a technical demonstration when she had completed the two-stage breaching charge (which had won her an impressive sum of research funding, let it be known!), but the secrecy of this summons had her wondering. She tapped the edge of the cup against the call button for the steam lift.

The door opened immediately, with a great amount of clacking and clattering. It was a copper-colored affair, a solid box of reflective bronze. Near the door was a great iron lever, marked along its axis with the labels of various basements - the lab actually went down twenty floors, but lift access only reached the tenth. Boarding, she squeezed the handle's lock and wrenched the lever to the seventh pip. The doors shut noisily and with a great rumble the lift began its slow and shuddering descent. Aline sipped at her pallirii, trying to remember where she had left off the day before. Shudmeyer had asked her for a bit of help with the new golem construct he was trying to put together, because some of the thaumatic interference was bending and breaking some of the metallic components. Hmph.

She exited the elevator into a long, dusky and dimly lit hallway. The walls were made of thick stone, and steam-pipes ran along the ceiling of the corridor, lit by the yellowish, steady light of rune-lamps embedded into the stone. First door on the left. She signed her crest onto the security sigil on the door once again, and when the tumblers clicked she pushed it open. A slightly musty smell greeted her (being a hundred meters underground will do that to your office, no matter how hard you try to keep it clean), mixed with the soft floral scenct of the dried flowers she had put around the lab to try and mask the odor. The room was bathed in a soft blue light coming in from a long wall of glass on the opposite side of the door.

The lab was about 40 meters by 10 meters, rectangular with the long edge along the hallway, but the various tables, machines, chairs, towers of books and other bits of furniture make it seem a lot smaller. The glass wall, running lengthwise, afforded a view of Arc Lake. It was an underground formation that extended through the entirety of Mycroft and then some; the water was a beautiful, radiant blue; the basalith rocks that formed the cavern naturally gave off an iridescent blue light. A study she had once read attributed the light to thaumatic resonance with the lakewater, but she didn't buy that explanation.

Aline threw down her small messenger's bag onto her desk, and lifted off her heavy robe and threw it over the back of a chair, setting her bread down on the desk as well. Still drinking from her cup, Aline twisted open the combination lock on the airtight locker in the near corner of the room, pulling her uniform from its hanger and pulling it on. It was almost like a lab coast, but a little more sleek and better fitted. It was tawny brown and made of thick, heavy plant fiber, and embroidered with swirls of gold filigree. The hem extended down to her knees and ended in twin coat-tails, and the sleeves reached down about half as far; there was a slit at the elbows for her arms to come out freely, letting the sleeve-ends dangle. The ends themselves were sealed at the end, and acted as thick, insulating mittens for handling hot metal or glass. A small convenience.

She paused to examine herself in the mirror she had propped against the wall. Hmph. Aline was of moderate stature, with tousled, short-cut dirty blonde hair and a boyish face. Short, feathery bangs framed light blue eyes, and her frame, though short, had a moderately atheletic build from her walks around the city proper. Her boyish looks often got her confusion and teasing from visitors and coworkers -- Elmer had always called her "boy," as well, though whether or not that was a joke or somehow related to his homosexuality was so far unknown and unprobed. Maybe it was because of her boyish dress style, usually just pants and some kind of shirt and vest, but today she was a little dressed up, for the Council's sake. She wore a cream colored, breezy shift under her robes that extended past her hips, decorated by a single thread of silver wire that wound its way around her body. Her dusty boots went only to mid-calf, and the rest of her legs were covered by a pair of fitted, white-and-brown cloth pants that ended just above her boots. Just enough to not look scruffy, but not enough to look like she was making an exception for them. She set her cup down.

"The mail..." A small stack of papers, toggled together, lay in her in-basket by the door. She picked up the stack and began skimming the headlines of the daily newspaper. "Kerthe, again?" A frown of distaste formed across her lips. "Well... I can't say his arrogance isn't justified."

[Aleu]

-[Kerthe]-

"Lordie be, seems like the whole sun's decided to come down and say hello, don't it?" A man in a long brown waistcoat followed behind Kerthe, chewing absently at a nearly burned out cigarette in his mouth. His steel-toed boots clacked loudly on the cobblestones, but with both hands stuffed into his pockets and an easy, languid gait, he cut an easy, casual figure on a morning stroll. He pulled the cigarette stub from his lips and tossed it into the street without bothering to crush it, running his fingers across the brown stubble on his chin contemplatively. Kid had a big picture of himself. Wasn't a bad thing, no sir. Just something to keep in mind. They were almost to the doors of Mycroft, so he quickened his pace.

"Top o' the morn, Master Kerthe," he said jovially as he caught up. His sharp blue eyes flashing brightly at Kerthe from behind wire-rimmed spectacles. "I'm your purrsonal escort from the Council this mornin', sir. The name's Johnson. Johnson Myrrh." He extended a cracked and calloused hand to him in a friendly gesture. Upon their apprroach, the same door that Aline had entered through an hour earlier opened, a blast of warm air blew from the inner foyer as the second sigil lock opened as well, revealing the labs to them. "Lift's at the back of the hall, sir."

-[Naes]-

The seven o'clock bell tolled as Naes ended his contemplative cigarette and departed towards the narrow streets of the outer rings of the city - the merchant's district, Hurstwood Market. The cramped layout of the city had made it difficult for caravans to penetrate far into the city's heart, so most of the merchant families made their business along the outer perimeter of Pharos. It was a haphazard affair of an open-air market, where all manner of vendors hawked their wares, from street food, groceries, and metalware to imported cloths and jewelry. The outermost ring of the market faced the port district, where incoming ships unloaded crates of goods and cabins of people all through the day. The inner rings were lined with market stalls on both sides, leading to a very claustrophobic affair once people started filling in.

For pickpockets like Naes, though, it was ripe picking grounds. A young woman watched from the planks of one of the city's many hanging catwalks, hands placed firmly on her hips as she shook her head with a sad sigh as Naes vanished into shadow. "Why is herding cats always my job?" She grabbed the railing and swung over the edge, dropping down about ten feet to the copper-shingled rooftop below. "Master Naes!" she shouted, cupping her hands over her mouth as she jogged in the general direction that he had departed towards. "Master Naes, please don't forget! You've a meeting at the Council in half an hour, and Mycroft is the other way!"

[Arynielle]

Sorry for the lateness!

And some recycling. You'll probably be the one to notice, Shiori. XD

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Kerthe said, shaking the extended hand with warm ease. For someone born into the upper classes with a silver spoon in his mouth, he was very friendly. His light brown eyes glimmered in the pale morning light, and he smiled for his escort. "So you work for the council, Mister Myrrh? Must be a busy job." But hey -- it must have been better than working in the mines or the warehouses where it was cold and arduous labor.

When they finally arrived at the correct building, Kerthe slipped into the open door, warmth flushing at his senses. He had forgotten how chilly it was outside; he must have been too excited to notice. Unsure of whether his escort would follow him up to the lift or not, he turned to watch for the man behind him, though he began his trek through the hallway.

---

She brushed dark bangs out of her emerald stare, her gaze falling up this roguish man who seemed keenly lost in thought. Perhaps there was something on his mind, some mundane worry that was so important to each individual but seemed too plain to direct the attention of the government. That was fine. She never liked the social structures and policies of foreign nations anyway.

Remede Soma was a woman of simple perplexity, a beauty among her people with a subtle will of iron and stone. Her eyebrows were thick but plucked cleanly, shaping every expression that came across her face with definitive ease. Long, wavy hair flowed past her shoulders, just short of her waistline, ebony and dark in contrast with the rose of her light skin. And her eyes... they were were the deepest of greens, the hues among the pines of the mountains with a hint of the sun's vibrant warmth and wisdom.

Adorned in layers of robes, her fleeting steps seemed like the flight of the bird, feathers catching the gentle wind. Her weapon of choice was also akin to the wings of fair and nimble herons, metal fans made of silk and steel that could manipulate flesh, fatalities written upon their deceptive beauty. They were kept hidden among the folds of her clothes, disguised as simple items of luxury -- few understood the dangers she wielded at the slight of her hand.

But such force was unnecessary now. Remede was the sort to pick out all the dangers within sight, for little escaped her watchful eyes. She could detect weapons hidden away in clothing, in boots, in sacks -- even the most subtle attempts were no good. She raised an eyebrow at the young rogue, knowing that he was not someone to be trusted... yet, even now, he dealt no harm, and even if he did, who was she to interfere with the lives of the people here?

Her attention diverted as soon as she saw someone else. A young woman took a leap from one of the catwalks, chasing after who else but the rogue Remede had spied? Interested, Remede thought that she was slink behind in the shadows for a short while; perhaps this was her chance at finding some information about this place.

[Shiori Ailill]

((sorry for lateness as well >_>U Let the chase begin? XD ))

((EDIT: Added a little more to get the ball going on this little chase))


Naes scanned the crowd, searching for a few pickpocket targets and someone to follow to case their home for a more lucrative prize. Picking pockets was fun but not as profitable as he would like. However it did make lying to his family easier as he had told them that he worked the docks, just never told them the specifics. His father would be furious at him for becoming a common criminal, not that he really cared as it was his foolishness that the family no longer lived in the city center. His mother, however, would be heart-broken thinking he had become like the starving orphans that would get punished horribly for getting caught trying to steal an apple.

Shutting his eyes, Naes cleared his mind, the faces of his parents disappearing in his mind's eye. Distractions is what gets you caught and he's had enough close calls lately. Opening his eyes he gauged the people coming off the latest boats, most weren't worth the effort of stealing whatever coppers they had on them. Besides, the man did have some honor left and wasn't going to steal from those that need what little they had. A foreign woman walked up from the planks. If Naes wasn't in his working mindset his jaw would have been agape like the many young dockworkers and sailors. Beautiful and elegant, she seemed to glide rather than walk. The layers of robes made of expensive fabric screamed nobility and her cleanliness made her stand out among the dirt, grease, and grime of the outer city as a perfectly cut diamond among a pile of rusted scrap metal.

A perfect target, Naes thought, at least at first. Then he caught her eyes for a split second. A pair of emeralds couldn't be prettier. But precious stones didn't have what a set of eyes can: emotion, intelligence, drive. One can always learn something from looking into another's eyes. In that split second the man learned what he needed and choose to find other prey down the street. The woman had a bite behind her beauty, and he was not going to be the fool to anger her.

It was but a few seconds later that he heard his name being called with an unknown voice. He kept walking as his blood turned to ice. Picking up the pace his mind raced, no longer searching for a prize to steal but quick escape route.

The woman's voice called him "Master" and mentioned the Council meeting. Naes had no desire to see the Council. The Council, from what he knew, only payed attention to the major noble families like the Marr, minor families who were doing exceptionally well in the scholarly arts, or the minor nobles that did some atrocious act that affected the status quo of Pharos in a negative way, like his father. Naes was no longer a noble, he was a commoner, and meeting with the Council would probably be the death of him.

The rogue pushed his way through the crowd of people both buying and selling. He took a quick glance behind him, trying to not draw attention to himself. It took a few moments to recognize the woman following him. Naes had seen her around and she always seemed slightly out of place, but never so much to raise alarm. The more he learned of the situation he was in, the less he liked it. He needed to loose her somehow, getting back on the catwalks quickly was probably his best bet. He spotted a bit of wall that wasn't blocked by a market stall a few meters ahead. That would do, he can use his thaum abilities to leave his pursuer to find an access ladder to follow him. Unless she too could control the air, then he would have to think of something else.

Merchants and customers yelled as they clung to their wares and belongings as Naes put his plan to action. Using the bare wall as a leaping off point he sent a gust of air below him to fuel his jump to the neighboring build across the lane. With help from his wind-thaum abilities he was able to bound between the two buildings reaching the top to the catwalks in mere moments. With a final leap he reached for the nearest catwalk and crashed into it with his stomach. With the air knocked out of him Naes nearly fell back to the distant ground below but he managed to grab hold and scramble onto the catwalk.

"Why can I never get the landing right?" he wheezed to himself as he laid on his back catching his breath. After Naes got up and dusted himself off he spotted a couple on the catwalk staring at him.

"Sir, Ma'am," The young man bowed and flashed a quick grin at both of them and ran in the opposite direction. He was far from being out of the noose yet.

[Aleu]

-[Kerthe]-

"Oh, t'aint so bad," he said, sauntering into the hall behind Kerthe and shutting the thick steel doors behind them with a wave of his hand. "Better than working in the mines, at least! Or the warehouses!" He barked a rough sort of laugh as the heated air billowed out over them as they entered Mycroft, and his tanned, wrinkled cheeks flushed slightly. "The Council takes good care of us all, ya’ see. I’m just a rat, it’s far above my place to be complainin’ – least, that’s what they tells ye!" He laughed again. A man in his thirties, Johnson Myrrh had the look of an old seafarer to him. His beard was full but trimmed neatly, and a beaten leather cap kept his long brown hair under slightly tangled control. His hands were set firmly in the pockets of his long coat and he walked with an easy swagger, a kind of devil-may-care confidence more lackadaisical than arrogant. His face was wrinkled with experience, but his eyes, framed by wire-rimmed spectacles, were sharp and attentive. His eyes had the look of a keen mind to them, despite his attitude and accent.

“I worked on a ship once, didya’ know?” The two of them made their way through the main atrium of the hall, passing through the soaring marble arches and walking straight down the concourse as they began to bustle with life. People walked to and fro inside the small shops and eateries on either side of the corridor, preparing to open for the day. At the far end the light fountain glimmered in the rising sunlight, catching the dawn’s reflections and scattering them throughout the hall.

“Fountain’s a sight to see, ain’t it?” said Myrrh, taking a bit of paper from his pocket and a pinch of tobacco from a small bag on his waist, rolling them together into a cigarette as he walked, then stuck it behind his ear. “Tough work, I’ll tell ye’. The ship, being my meaning o’course. Not the fountain, she’s just a damned piece of glass, trick o’ t’light Top o’ t’morn, Miss Cobb!” He raised his hat in greeting and an olive-skinned woman inside the Glass Arboretum waved in greeting from behind the pastry case. “She kept me up all day and night, I’ll tell ye. The boat, I means t’say, not the woman.” As they passed by the fountain he pushed the button for the lift, and he gestured for Kerthe to enter before he stepped in behind.

““Y’know, though, I ain’t never been at sea.” He removed the cigarette from his ear and put it between his teeth. He took a puff, and the tip smoldered to life on its own. “Worked on a boat all those years and ain’t never been to sea – how’s that!” He arched an eyebrow towards Kerthe. “Wonder how that could be? I ain’t never worked the docks, neither.” The lift rumbled upwards, and the doors opened with a loud bang on the uppermost floor. Thick, plush red carpet spread out before them, and bright rune-lamps decorated the wallpapered corridor. Ahead of them was a set of double doors, and the hallway extended down to their left. “Here’s the waitin’ room, we’ll be here for a spell ‘til the Council wants to see ‘ye. I’ll be in the lil’ sailor’s room.” Myrrh opened the door with one hand and gestured for Kerthe to enter, before departing down the hallway, puffing at his cigarette. The room was a small library – an empty fireplace sat against one wall, and bookshelves made up the other two sides. Pharos, the Librarium. Books were what the city was known for. Reclining in one of the many armchairs in the room sat Aline, the newspaper in her left hand and the still warm insulated tankard of pallirii in the other. She looked over the top of the page towards Kerthe, her eyes widening a fraction with surprise.

“Mister Marr,” she said, setting her tankard down and standing upon his entrance. He had a reputation for a cocky attitude and a way with women, and while his personality wasn’t really Aline’s thing she could definitely see the charm that captivated so many. The long sleeves of shift brushed against the tabletop as she extended her hand to him. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She’d always wanted to be able to say that!

[OOC: If you wanted Kerthe to have some knowledge of Aline and who she is (she is a relatively well known, if not particularly famous thaumaturgist), I added a little bit of info to the signup thread]