And when the sun dipped, only then did the azure sky turn into a warm orange and darkle onwards into deep purple. The last vestiges of regularity faded as vendors scurried off from their posts while somewhere else women caked themselves to beauty as their men self-obsessively readied their attires over smokes and drinks. The night sky became illuminated with a hundred billion stars shining brightly only for a single moment before the familiar neon glow began usurping the luminous frame and erasing all else from the sky.
Behind closed doors prima donnas scrutinized the details of every one of their gay costumes for their upcoming shows while musicians limbered their fingers to jazz standards in their last minute rehearsals. Waiters hurriedly rushed to set up the various tables surrounding the ballroom floor while the manager checked both the bars and kitchens thrice in order to ensure that there was enough food and refreshments to sate the appetites of their would be patrons. A lone figure stood alone the organized chaos ignored by the traffic of bodies ever so close to grazing him. He watched intently with a cigarette gracing his smile gracing his youthful countenance before he extinguished it on a recently set-up table’s ashtray. A portly man with graying and thinning hair came half-running from a large, solid, black door before stumbling his way before the lone figure that everyone had come to loathe in their unique ways.
”My apologies Monsieur, there are simply no more tables for tonight. Perhaps another night, yes? We‘d be more than eager to make all the proper arrangements,” he nervously bumbled while wiping the sweat off of his moist forehead. He already knew before a word in response was spoken that he would be forced to call one of his wealthier yet significantly less dangerous patrons with a sudden cancellation and be forced to deal with the usual backlash that comes with angering a member of the elite.
The lone figure was dressed in the characteristic grey suit, white shirt, and black tie of so many a noir hero. He played the part of a good friend but spoke with a voice of pure ice that left little to the imagination. ”I’ve recently hired an accountant at the Torre Celeste. I've found they can be very thorough, especially when you offer then 20% from any clerical discrepancies.”. Whether he continued his ramblings or ended there was of little importance to the finality of the situation, the die had been cast. With a friendly clap on the blustering fat man’s back, he left the club in order to finish some of his own preparations while leaving the overweight manager at a loss for words.
---
A younger man dressed in Kumogakure's standard Chuunin affair paced himself through the immaculately paved roads in the Seki District's finer quadrant before he arrived at the Nara estate. Nervously, he made his way through the overbearing arcs and into the tended elaborately tended garden until he reached the doors of the estate which he promptly rapped upon. A servant of the Nara clan soon appeared to greet the Chuunin but instead only met the silent exchange of parcels. When the Chuunin finally excused himself, the servant noticed that someone in fine script had addressed it to Misombra. She had only heard that term once when a knavish blonde rogue turned Sennin had been around...
Behind closed doors prima donnas scrutinized the details of every one of their gay costumes for their upcoming shows while musicians limbered their fingers to jazz standards in their last minute rehearsals. Waiters hurriedly rushed to set up the various tables surrounding the ballroom floor while the manager checked both the bars and kitchens thrice in order to ensure that there was enough food and refreshments to sate the appetites of their would be patrons. A lone figure stood alone the organized chaos ignored by the traffic of bodies ever so close to grazing him. He watched intently with a cigarette gracing his smile gracing his youthful countenance before he extinguished it on a recently set-up table’s ashtray. A portly man with graying and thinning hair came half-running from a large, solid, black door before stumbling his way before the lone figure that everyone had come to loathe in their unique ways.
”My apologies Monsieur, there are simply no more tables for tonight. Perhaps another night, yes? We‘d be more than eager to make all the proper arrangements,” he nervously bumbled while wiping the sweat off of his moist forehead. He already knew before a word in response was spoken that he would be forced to call one of his wealthier yet significantly less dangerous patrons with a sudden cancellation and be forced to deal with the usual backlash that comes with angering a member of the elite.
The lone figure was dressed in the characteristic grey suit, white shirt, and black tie of so many a noir hero. He played the part of a good friend but spoke with a voice of pure ice that left little to the imagination. ”I’ve recently hired an accountant at the Torre Celeste. I've found they can be very thorough, especially when you offer then 20% from any clerical discrepancies.”. Whether he continued his ramblings or ended there was of little importance to the finality of the situation, the die had been cast. With a friendly clap on the blustering fat man’s back, he left the club in order to finish some of his own preparations while leaving the overweight manager at a loss for words.
---
A younger man dressed in Kumogakure's standard Chuunin affair paced himself through the immaculately paved roads in the Seki District's finer quadrant before he arrived at the Nara estate. Nervously, he made his way through the overbearing arcs and into the tended elaborately tended garden until he reached the doors of the estate which he promptly rapped upon. A servant of the Nara clan soon appeared to greet the Chuunin but instead only met the silent exchange of parcels. When the Chuunin finally excused himself, the servant noticed that someone in fine script had addressed it to Misombra. She had only heard that term once when a knavish blonde rogue turned Sennin had been around...
An elaborately finesse hand said:To my dearest Kotaza,
I have found myself with the good fortune of being the first and only individual swift enough to swoop on another’s cancellation to the elegant Stratus Nightclub. At the risk of betraying myself, I know of no other person that I would rather ask the favor of accompanying me on what promises to be an entertaining night of dinner, dancing, and a show. I shall be waiting ever the lone wolf at the same street we once shared a moonlight dance.