Retrospective - Leo’s View: A Long Overdue Unwind (Or: I Like Pretty Girls and Post-Coital Bacon-Wrapped Figs Do Not Suck)

Sun’s full up. Time for bed.

It was a pretty walk to get here, but I wasn’t paying much attention to the scenery. I was just trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing. I found myself with a prayer to Marius on my lips – I don’t know what I want or need, but I know I could use some help. Unwind. Find Anton. See what’s up with Demias. Maybe figure out where I stand on this whole political mess, although maybe that’s stretching my luck. I don’t know if he was listening, but I hope he was.

There were guards at the entry gate. They didn’t ask to see my invitation, so I just walked in. I could see the sweep of the grounds in the fading dusk light, and the party was in full swing. Beyond the lawn packed with guests, the guest house was an explosion of light and sound. Surprisingly, although the main house was raucous on the lower floor, the upper floors looked quieter.

I joined the crowd and joined the party. There were some guests there I wouldn’t ordinarily have expected to see – that baker, some Elves – but I’d heard that the Roving Party was grabbing people from all strata of society. Making my way slowly towards the guest house, I had several great conversations with other partygoers. The servants were attentive, always showing up with offers of food, drink, and wide variety of pharmaceuticals to suit every taste. I got into a good headspace without too much trouble. Several mugs of good beer, and a Pesh/Shine drug cocktail had me walking on water, nice and floaty. Everything had a nimbus of darkness around it…

At the guest house, the bottom floor was the place for people to jump off the deep end. The ballroom was a frenzied hive of revelry and fornication. Not that it wasn’t tempting because hell, it was, but I was still clear-headed enough to remember that I wanted to learn the lay of the land before getting entirely sidetracked for an indefinite period of time. The second floor was a little mellower – where people went to crash out after they’d had their fill of the first floor. There were these guys doing pushups – apparently some shit called Bloodsap makes you feel stronger, but doesn’t actually lend strength, so you’re destroyed the next day. (The woman telling me about it seemed to be suggesting other uses as well, but when you think that one through… the chafing.) A few rooms away some people had been folk-dancing but by the time I got there they’d stopped and collapsed in a pile of giggles.

I had a deep-ish conversation with a girl about the river being the lifeblood of the city. She suggested I try Flayleaf, says it makes everything “so clear. SO clear.”

The third floor had different parties in each room. One room had a passel of pretty girls playing Dunk, a drinking game with a ball and cups. I joined them – the Beer / Pesh / Shine buzz was making me slower than usual so my reflexes were bad, but it was still a lot of fun. They seemed to get a lot of enjoyment out of my terrible playing, but they were also fun to flirt with and I got the impression that they liked me for more than my comedic value alone.

Unconscious people had been stacked like cordwood outside the guesthouse, but there upstairs it seemed like servants were taking them up instead of down. A gnarled old servant offered to show me the fourth floor when I asked about places to crash. Most of the rooms were full of sleep pallets on the floor, but a few were locked. The Duchess’ private possessions, said the servant. Disinclined to crash just yet, I headed back downstairs. As I turned back to thank the servant who was at the top of the stairs, I saw a tall, dark figure, cloaked, standing and seeming to give orders to the servant, who was nodding. The eerie thing is, I hadn’t seen the tall figure at all in the hallway with us, or heard anyone else awake up there, and it would have had to have been right behind us to be where it was when I turned back. Strange. I needed something to pep me up a bit, and asked another servitor to bring me something. He brought some warm milk with something good in it. Alert but not jittery. Yum.

The girls had changed their drinking game to Strip-Dunk by the time I swung back to that room again, and invited me to join in. That seemed like a game I could win even if I lost. As it happens the sedative effects of the first drug cocktail I’d taken had worn off and I was notably better than I had been previously, in that I still had my smallclothes by the end of the game. None of the girls were sore losers, though. A number of them were sleepy and curled up in a pile in the corner to nap. Two had some of the warm-milk upper I’d had to stay awake. Of those, one drifted off, but the other one – Magnolia – was quite friendly. And quite a good kisser. And quite thoroughly naked.

Throughout the party people were pretty much fucking all over the place, so we didn’t worry too much about finding somewhere private. And thank the gods for Eowyn, because after a good while sharing Magnolia’s pleasurable company she fell asleep with a smile on her face. I retrieved my clothes and headed downstairs.

As I was wandering some of the paths, I came up towards an open-walled house with amazing music pouring forth from it. I came around the corner and stopped in my tracks because the player was even more arresting than the music. Lithe and willowy, every gorgeous inch of her covered in clinging black, the best parts accented with a white silk corset and garters. A fitted white porcelain mask covered her whole face. She was playing the piano entrancingly, but her performance was just ending. People seemed too intimidated to talk with her; they’d just come up and stammer hello and back off. I had just missed her performance, though, so I stepped up and started a conversation, hoping to convince her to play again so I could hear a full piece. I was surprised at how willing she was to sit back down at the keyboard. Her music was breathtaking, full of tonal harmonies and imbued with deep emotion.

We spoke at some length when she finished – her name is Shae. She was clever-tongued, so we slipped into word games similar to those at court. She asked if I’d been Claimed, but initially wouldn’t tell me more. I managed to fish out of her that there’s a game, which she called Masquerade, which has several factions, taking place in the main mansion, which is the invite-only area. She seemed delighted that I had an invitation, and asked if I’d take a mask to consider joining her faction/team once I’d figured out the rules to the game. I got that different factions had different ideas about how to win, that the end-game conditions hadn’t been clarified to anyone, and that her strategy was to gather the most-interesting people on her team. A third strategy seems to be trying to build a “balanced” group, like a hand of cards. She indicated that the lower floor is where most of the hubbub of activity is, and where people figure out the game and tend to select their team. Evidently it’s poor taste to shift alliances after choosing a side. The game changes as you go up (8 floors), changing conditions and goals on each floor, getting more exclusive as you go up, and it sounds like, more serious. She playfully warned me that it could be dangerous, but she did it twice, which made me take note. I’m curious as hell what’s going on, but she indicated that one of the core principles was that you couldn’t explain the rules. When she clarified that taking the mask wasn’t a commitment to her faction, I was willing to take the mask. I tucked it away under my cloak. Something to consider.

Eventually her impeccable black-and-white guard reminded her that she had to go back to the main house,. There were an uncomfortable number of people who wanted to talk with me just because she’d talked with me, so I extricated myself and wandered a bit more. One outbuilding seemed to be the “private” place for screwing, which is to say, everyone there was screwing, so fewer people were watching at any given time. The other building had dancing upstairs, where a red-skinned Tiefling was dancing and holding acerbic repartee with the musicians. He was a good dancer, fire when he clapped. Impressive. Eventually he begged off and a delicate waif of a girl started dancing. Pretty, but I’ve seen the style, nothing special, so I headed downstairs.

The dark nimbus was still around everything, even though the first drug cocktail had worn off long since. Thinking back, I’ve had Pesh and Shine together before, and the visuals usually shift. The dark nimbus was weirdly consistent, and particularly persistent.

I rejoined the outside party, talking with people and having a good time. A couple of hours before dawn a few girls convinced me to go skinny-dipping with them in one of the pools. That evolved into a game that… well there was soft lawn nearby. And the pool there for all of us to wash off, afterward. And servants, bless their loyal hearts, with fluffy dry towels and hot bacon-wrapped figs.

It was a good night.

When dawn broke the party started to slow down, and I realized that there was going to be a run on crash space. I was coming down hard anyway, and wanted a comfy spot to rest up before starting in on the ground floor of the mansion tomorrow. I had to fast-talk a bit, but managed to get one of the last open pallets upstairs on the quiet fourth floor.

Tomorrow promises to be interesting.

Interesting Times
Byron's View

Well, this is an interesting party. I’d been wandering around the downstairs after the others decided to explore the second level, talking to various factions, and had an odd experience with a pair of the players, wherein they seemed to be emotionally linked somehow? It was all quite fascinating in the moment. In any case, I decided then to go upstairs, and blew off some fool who wouldn’t talk to me earlier. Ah, such are the vagaries of life.

Upon my ascension to the upper level, past the gatekeeper of the HOST, I managed to quite quickly reconnect with Cinnamon, Varys, Alice, and luckily enough Leo. There followed upon our most joyous reunion a long and boring recounting of the factions involved blah blah blah. Then we tried to figure out how to visit a shadowy friend of Leo’s on the Third Floor without looking like the complete unknown unprotected fools we are. So, I ended up putting on a featurless mask, which turned out to have Implications. Then someone realized that the shadow nearby was watching us, and tried to convince it not to report our conversation.

Cinnamon fed it some memories, and It turned into a cat thing that followed me around. So Cute! Varys then conjured up a vision of where Ivraham was, and he was in great distress fighting other shadows, so we asked our cat-shadow friend if he knew where the other shadows were, and he could not help us without giving up his form, possibly forever. I hope he indicated the direction we must go, and that is where we will go now to try to assist Cinnamon’s love. I hope this works out, and that our newfound friend gets his body back…

A Short History of Two Kalbs, A Bard, and a Concerned Prostitute: Part 20

Well, we found Leo. He managed to fill us in on the staggering number of players here at this party. And apparently some aren’t from around here. Trading memories and emotions sounds rather weird. Even weirder still is attempting to make the mercantile system a zero-sum deal. If it was possible to break that hold, well, perhaps this entire party will fall apart…

Good thing this occurred to all of us when we found out that a tiny shadow had been tailing us. Well, we decided that a psychic sharing of memories might help convince it to help us. And for once, our idea turned out to be a cute little shadow brother kitten (okay, still a little creepy behind a mask). The fact that it was willing to sacrifice it’s existence to help us made it all the more endearing.

Realizing that it’s only been 1 hour since I had my last vision, I tried to see where Ivraham might be. He appeared to be in some trouble with shadows assaulting his ‘force shield’. I’m beginning to wonder if rescuing Ivraham is a ‘thing’. At least I can watch my cousin rescue him. Maybe they’ll even go so far as to kiss again? Probably not.

So on our to-do list:

  • Rescue Ivraham (again).
  • Talk with the Duchess.
  • Find out what is maintaining the metaphysical link to the other worlds.
  • Shut it down with our best judgment.

Nice, simple, and easy. Trust me, I’m a seer.

Cinnamon's Journal: In Which I Have No Idea What I'm Doing

So after busting in to Lady Oleana’s party, it quickly became apparent that people in masks were representing these “patrons” we’d heard so much about, and I was mistaken for one of these representatives as I figured that showing up to a flossy party with my usual daytime child-frightening look wouldn’t go over well.

We bluffed our way up stairs, but lost Ivraham on the way. We discover the shadows are running things and that some kind of fucked business deal resulted in her being consumed…somehow? I was kind of loose on the details because I was basically spending all my time panicking about how to pretend to be something I’m not, without even knowing what that something is. I just came here to wear an awesome dress and punch things (which hopefully Ivraham would find impressive, although I think the dress looks weird to him because his culture is so different and OH MY GOD WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT THIS. FOCUS. FOR FUCK’S SAKE).

I can’t keep up with this shit.

So it turns out Leo is undercover and in the service of one of the shadows who I mistook for a specialty dominatrix and also is sentient and on our side I guess? And then we were being spied on by another shadow so we were fucked and then we were like “maybe if we bribe it with memories it will leave us alone” and we were all like “sure” so I did that psionics woojy thing where I give people memories and give myself a headache and we made a…not-cat.

Then we realize we lost Ivraham, so Varus does that thing where his eyes roll back in his head and it turns out he’s upstairs in a room full of shadows. The not-cat shows us the way to go, but loses his form in the process (sad but I really don’t have time to think about this).

So now we gotta go save Ivraham. Again.

I need a vacation.

A Short History of Two Kalbs, A Bard, and a Concerned Prostitute: Part 19

I once considered following Marius when I was a child. I think it was all the toasting in the feast hall that drew me to him. Today, Marius had blessed Byron’s drink and we all took a sip from it. In retrospect, I think this protected us from just partying like everyone else. At the time, I just enjoyed the nutty, frothy, beautiful aromas and the flavors…!

After making some minor arrangements for backup, we made our entrance at the party. There was certainly enough ‘dancing’, drugs, and people indulging outside the house to satisfy anyone.

But it was the steps up to the House that took me aback. For a brief moment I saw blood just pouring down the steps like a floodgate had been opened. I felt a firm squeeze on the shoulder as I heard “the watchers are being watched”.

Byron was speaking to a possible patron called the Unbound. Alice was simply making her way up the stairs. Cinnamon had put on a death glare that could have shriven a godling. Maybe those servants were. I was certainly impressed!

We finally managed to make our way up the steps to try and find Leo. In a way, this felt like we were in a delicate political game on a whole different plane of existence. We were like a small herd of bulls rushing into a political tete-a-tete that was about to spiral into shankings.

With Cinnamon as my “patron”, I accepted the cost of my eye color on the last day of my life along with two minutes of water running through my hair. In ten minutes we discovered a few more facts from Alice’s scrying.

My goodness, is this what hopeless fear feels like?

A Short History of Two Kalbs, A Bard, and a Concerned Prostitute: Part 18

Is this what a normal day feels like? Remarkable. We just spent two days doing normal things, like-

  • We attempted to collect Byron’s sock.
  • I lost control of myself looking into what was behind the city-wide visions (at least they were unintended?).
  • From Alice’s scrying, Leo is still alive and in a drug-induced stupor.
  • We visited Lady Fla who added her non-committal non-support for her father’s death.

Beyond that, we still have no idea on how to stop Makka. How do you stop something on that scale? The only things capable of opposing such a force are perhaps a cabal of wizards (ha ha) or organizing the various churches to help build the wall.

More letters then. If enough people know, maybe we can make a difference…

A Short History of Two Kalbs, A Bard, and a Concerned Prostitute: Part 17

Finally, a nice and lazy day right? Left to our own devices, I took out my notebook and started rattling off the various meals left on the backburner. Let’s see-

  • Party That Goes Forever
  • Deal with the Builder (waiting for a way to deal with the Builder)
  • Duke Fla’s murder (it’s only been three days?!)
  • Maka is coming

With very few threads to follow up on, we planned on making our way to the docks to find a tribesman. Leo had to go off somewhere mysterious for more information on the party, but we agreed to meet up latter.

Cue an hour in and us looking at a divine rock that may have been sent by a god of destruction. We were also surrounded by several unfortunates who had amde their living out here. That is before one of them touched the rock and began to disintegrate. Well, Byron looked at the Rock and fell over, so I opted not to do the same. After some deliberation, we finally left it in the hands of the High Necromancer.

Afterwards, we visited the docks to find a tribesman whom we could talk to about the mortal man who faced Maka. Well, turns out this dockworker had genies bound to his tattoos that he passed off to Byron. I don’t even try to understand what is going on with that man.

When we arrived at our rendezvous, Leo wasn’t there. We waited half an hour. No Leo. Things became clear when we got a letter detailing that Leo had gone into the party. I believe we all agreed to give him the requested few days… and then we are going to do what we do best.

A Short History of Two Kalbs, A Bard, and a Concerned Prostitute: Part 16

Who sent those visions? I can’t wrap my mind around it. All of my friends dying or dead and the only course left to kill a little girl…

It’s times like these that make me question my time here in this city. It feels like we are putting out small fires with buckets of water while a firestorm is just beginning to open up in the sky.

Maka. I thought about it and I finally caught onto a thread that made sense. There is something in the Astral. Something big. And all the ‘little’ predators are running before the fire.

Someone is helping this Nathaniel build this Wall against her. That someone may have also sent those damnable visions. Certainly the golem who is the ‘Protector of the City’ told as much. Funny how knowing the scale of the things arraigning themselves against Her only fills me with dread.

What can you do against a God? Who sent those visions?

All I know is that if killing an innocent girl is the only option left, we live in a world that doesn’t deserve to be saved.

Cinnamon's Journal: In which this is going to be a Thing That Happens

I’d planned on getting a decent night’s sleep, debriefing with Harrik in the morning, and then maybe hashing things out with Ivraham over breakfast, to the extent things like one’s imminent death and what exactly the cultural equivalent of going steady is among the Xeph and how those things interact can be hashed out over eggs.

Instead I had another dream in Time-Fuckery-O-Vision, where I went to report to Harrik and vacillated between reporting to him five minutes before I reported to him, and going missing for three weeks. The latter was the one I was more worried about – something about “things” in the government district and violence and William getting killed after Harrik sent him to look for me. Was afraid that reporting to Harrik would somehow be the fork in the road that could set a shitty timeline in motion, so I ran off to find the Kalb kids instead, who were off talking to a statue that was a statue but also Torvik and therefore also the city what are these words coming out of my mouth my God I hate my job sometimes.

So they had ALSO had some Time Fuckery dreams – Varus strangling a little girl to save us all, Alice getting addicted to Paulus’s lute, Byron pulling back the curtain and seeing warring forces manipulating us all. And it turns out that Lady C, Pimply, and Ivraham all had them as well.

I’d thought – hoped – that averting the riot would mean we could wade out of the shit creek that is time stream manipulation, but I guess not. I guess if you’re in the middle of shit creek and the eye of your god is upon you, this is just going to be a Thing That Happens.

Question is now, can we use the Thing that Happens to stop these Things From Happening. Especially since I saw Ivraham’s vision. We all did.

Looks like I may have been right on how to cure him. Horribly, horribly right.

Leo's View: Uncomfortable Truths

Fuck this shit.

We saved the kingdom from a wizard-puppeted jester. Got the High Necromancer and the High Priest of Aisling to work together, not to mention getting Ssama and Mayagami pointed in the same direction. Talked with Dukes Kalb and Mann – yes, together – and managed to hold off civil war for one more day at least. The Chancellor was kindly taken out of the picture, one less complicating factor. You’d think after all this shit maybe – just maybe – we could have just one morning without something hellacious happening.

[Deep swig.]

First thing after breakfast, Byron wanders in and mentions a vision he’s just had of watching a riot in the government district – but with a curtain pulled back so he could see that two different factions were affecting the way things played out. One seemed to be pushing for chaos and war, the other championing peace. Alright, interesting, but it’s Byron, so not that surprising.

Varus told us about a theory he had come up with that Macha was bumped to the Astral plane when she was last defeated. I haven’t the faintest idea whether he’s right, but the basic points he used as the foundation for his arguments seemed solid. At any rate, he asked if we could introduce him to Nathaniel, so we headed over – Alice joined up with us – and talked with N. He said they could always use donations of food or wagons, and asked if I could call the Watch off of him, since he and his assistants feel compelled to go places to either a) build Walls, or b) Harvest components from a building that’s recently been destroyed. This is problematic, as they seem to always show up at buildings just around the time they catch on fire. I don’t think they’re actually going around lighting things on fire – there are plenty of fires in the city without that – but it’s pretty damning circumstantial evidence. Not much I could do to influence the Watch, anyway.

[Sip. Pause. Bigger sip]

We’d planned to go find some Deston tribesmen to ask about their lore regarding the last defeat of Macha, but in talking with Nathaniel it became clear that he feels the City is compelling him and his compatriots to go to these places and do these things. The idea of a conscious City reminded Byron and me of Torvik, and we wondered whether there was a connection, and if so, what it was. Except usually Torvik only shows up when we’re in danger… so we decided to try going to Faesus’ temple, since we figured if Torvik-as-conscious-Valenci’s-guardian was just hanging around waiting for things to happen, he’d probably be hanging around there. It was admittedly a long shot.

On the way there, I said something about things being woodgy and out of my realm, and Varus was nettling me along the lines of “what, you’ve never had a vision?”

Ironic in hindsight.

[Drinks deeply.]

Anyway, we got to Faesus’ temple, and were greeted by an acolyte who would have been cute if she weren’t so aggressively perky. Tried sitting and waiting for the crushed alabaster paths to coalesce or something, but it wasn’t happening. Eventually I went walkabout to see if I could find any art that I liked, or that Torvik would have liked, thinking maybe that could be a key. I was about to give up when a statue of an adonis I was passing winked at me – and I’ve got to say, even though I was walking around looking for a way to connect with golem-Torvik, it is wickedly unnerving to have a statue wink at you. It made eye contact as I turned back around to look at it, and then blinked again.

I asked a few questions, established that it really did seem to be Torvik in there, and that he and Nathaniel were both called by the same thing // the City, but that he was not directly related to what Nathaniel was doing. I asked him if he could wait there so I could get the others, he nodded yes, so I trotted back to bring them all along. Cinnamon had showed up — she’d had a vision earlier in the day, about time-jumps, and was understandably pretty upset about it.

Everyone came to the adonis statue, but before we could talk with Torvik, Byron went off on some esoteric tangent to Cinnamon. No idea what it was about; I sort of checked out.

I wake with a start, unsure of what it was, exactly, that had wormed its way into my unconscious mind and roused me. I yawn, stretch and untangle myself from the heap of mostly-nude bodies and pick my way cautiously over to the liquor cabinet, careful not to disturb the sleep of any of last night’s companions. Struck by a sudden, odd desire, I turn to the window. It takes me a moment to figure out how to pull back the curtains, but eventually I manage to pull them back, allowing the grey light to stream across my face, Blinking, and somewhat woozy from the effort, I lean my head against the glass, peering out. The images are distorted by the thick glass and wards that ripple up the outside of the mansion, but the view of the city is spectacular.

My eyes roam across the familiar landscape, until they come to rest on the Palace hill. A wave of guilt washes over me as I see that the second gate is burning now, sending up great black plumes of smoke. I can’t see it from here, but I know that the first gate is flying Kalb colors, seized from the defending forces in a bloody skirmish weeks ago. “I should be there,” some small part of me says. “I should be helping the family if they’re on the offensive again…” A rush of self-righteous anger quickly squashes that little voice. Fuck the Duke, always pushing me around, trying to make me something I’m not. How dare he try to manipulate me still? I made my choice. I threw his stupid appointment of heir in his face and walked away, never to look back.

Never to look back, I remind myself.

I turn away from the window, letting the curtain fall shut with a quiet thump, mood thoroughly soured. I catch eyes with my friend Anton briefly from across the room, and he nods in silent understanding and gestures towards the large table at the edge of the pillow pit. I slowly make my way over there. He’s right of course. Usually is. No sense worrying about might-have-beens when I have one hell of a now to enjoy.

Now where was that good shit? The stuff that hits like Nid and makes it hard to remember your own damn name, but I could use that right now…

“Brother? Brother! Leo!” Byron shook me out of it, and I rose through the dark hot fog of the Zeitgast mansion back to the bright sunny hill and Faesus’ temple. And then Varus was in my face. “Did you have a vision, Leo?”

I wanted to give outlet to the sharp pain of reflected truths. I wanted to hurt him. I exercised great self-restraint and did not punch, knee, or stab Varus; I just told him to fuck off.

Everyone wanted to know what I’d seen. I told them the parts that would be relevant to them. I wasn’t inclined to share the orgiastic revelry or the narcotic anesthesia or the burning-hot truth that I don’t know what I would decide, if this decision were put to me right now.

[Another long pull from the flask.]

Cinnamon kept talking about a tipping point. The city being at a tipping point. Could go in any of several directions, equally plausible.

I’m… at a tipping point. I can’t be both a loyal subject of Korpesh and a loyal member of House Kalb. In truth, I’m far more loyal to Kalb, but I don’t think civil war is a good idea, both because it plays to Macha’s desire and because if we lose it means most or all of my family executed. Call it cowardice or call it enlightened self-interest, but I’m in no rush to put my head in a noose, especially not if there’s a more cunning way to win out and preserve my family and myself. Damned if I know what that would be, though. Is there seriously nobody older and wiser who can take care of all of this without fucking everything hopelessly up? Which makes me wonder if maybe the only way out is through — maybe the best and smartest thing to do actually is to try to overthrow the king. I sure as hell don’t have a cleverer plan, other than just frigging wait until we figure this out.

If Duke Markov showed up right now and said, and I paraphrase, “Leo my boy, you’re the best we’ve got, fuck Ivador and let them rot in jail, I want you to be my poster child to head up my fucking suicidal treasonous onslaught against the king for the glory of Kalb”… I genuinely don’t know what I would say. I’m more loyal to Kalb than to the King. I want to support my family. But the vision hit a point of truth, in the form of ‘fuck you, Markov, I’m not your sacrificial lamb.’

This was our country once, though.


I don’t want to be a merchant. I also don’t want to be a sitting-duck puppet figurehead, not that that’s actually been offered in real life, but just for the record. I do want to fucking relax and forget this all for awhile. I haven’t had a good drunken carouse in Marius knows how long.

Something something blah blah talky talky talk. I was distracted. I know Alice saw herself getting lethally addicted to Paulus’ lute. Varus saw himself crushing the life out of a little girl. Lady C had seen Velenci falling to Kemotin and Pimply saw himself killing people for hanging the blue dogs. Ivrahim showed up and said he had had a vision of battle-lust. Cinnamon did a thing where three people could share their visions, so we saw Byron’s and Varus’ and Ivrahim’s.

No, I didn’t want to fucking share mine, thanks all the same.

I need to check back at the Clubhouse and see if that invitation’s come in yet. Alexei asked me to look into it.

Doing a favor for a Kalb, and all.


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