Session 0 - Yves

It is a lovely spring afternoon in the city of Kuganepo. The trees are full of beautiful green buds, flowers have bloomed all throughout the city, students from every university are about, planning their upcoming breaks… there is little that could make this day better. That may not hold true for everyone here, though, particularly one young viera, stewing in a coffee shop, the specter of a disaster still looming large in his memory.
It has been six weeks since the worst (recent) moment in the life of one magitek researcher Yves Mrjwin, six weeks of waiting for the other shoe to drop, six weeks of waiting for someone to wake up, six weeks of waiting for something better to happen.
Six weeks of waiting.
Six weeks of waiting… that are about to come to an end.
Yves drinks coffee. Black… as the night of his soul, if his soul had a fair amount of sugar and a dash of cream, which it does /not/. He stares out the window of the shop for… a sign? Something in the vicinity of a sign. One that is not advertising a different coffee shop. He tried following one of those last week. It didn’t help.
People walk around on the other side of the window, everyone seeming cheerful and happy, everyone off to some grand new adventure in the fields of biology, chemistry, definitely not exploding everyone they know at their workplace.
Someone Yves thinks he vaguely, vaguely recognize peers in through the window, a human woman with a stern expression and glasses too low on her nose.
Yves flinches reflexively, ears drooping somehow even lower. But, hey. No one is exploding. That’s… good, right?
She looks at you, nods to herself, and then walks around to let herself in.
The bell on the door chimes, but she’s not going to the counter.
“Yves Mrjwin?”
Her voice is pitched low and her tone is one of someone used to being obeyed.
Yves opens his mouth, and discards a few paranoid and/or snarky responses before settling at last on, “That is most likely me.”
She extends her hand, holding it at a height that suggests she expects him to stand. “Jiandie Zheng.”
Yves lifts his coffee to that height, decides he doesn’t want to give up his coffee to a stranger, and rises to nod politely at her. He can’t really tower over people like his people usually do. It’s the ear thing. Then he shakes her hand, because he’s having a heck of a time making decisions today.
She sits down in the seat opposite Yves, as if invited. “How is your time away from AZYS going?”
Yves’ workplace. The explosion. Fun memories.
Yves sits down again. “They do tea,” he says. “I mean, not AZYS, they’re not doing… much… with the…” He makes a little exploding motion with one hand, and stares into his coffee.
Zheng nods, placing her hands on the table between them, lacing her fingers together. “We are very fortunate that you were not injured as well. I trust you are still feeling well?”
“Oh,” Yves says. “Yes! I’m feeling well. As well as a nice deep well whose cylinder can be described in a simple equation. That well. How are you? Have you tried the scones? Are you here to arrest me?” He thinks for a breath. “Not that you would have any reason to. Of course.” Yves drinks his coffee, confident the situation is well in hand.
Zheng lets the silence become just the worst flavor of oppressive before speaking. “Of course I am not here to arrest you. I’m here to hire you into my department, Yves.”
One of Yves’ ears perks up. Then his eyes narrow. “What does your department do? Is it mostly, like…” The little hand gesture again. “Because I /do/ have experience in that, but I’m thinking of going in a new direction with my future research. A direction that remains on a single vector. As it were.”
“You could say I work in Employee Resources, in that I am focused on the well-being, mentally and physically, of everyone in AZYS. But our work is very versatile, so if you are set on a single vector, perhaps I would just be interfering. I do not want to interfere with your professional development, especially when you are on a… how long is your leave of absence for, again?”
“It’s more that I want my work to… I mean…” Yves makes a series of hand gestures that might, if one squints at them properly, be interpreted as things not exploding wildly in all directions. “…though a paycheck is useful. For getting work done. That too.”
“A paycheck, of course. Thank you for reminding me.” Zheng reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a stack of gil notes, at least five thousand. That’s enough to make a lot of poor decisions with.
Tiny sparkles appear in Yves’ eyes. So many poor decisions dance through his hindbrain. “So, employee resources, which is all about helping employees. That sounds very responsible.”
Zheng smiles. “Of course. This would be a simple job, and not dependent on you accepting the internal transfer. It is something that is very important to AZYS, and right now, there is no one, I feel, that is better for this job than you.”
The coffee in the mug shivers a bit until Yves takes a hasty sip to cover the motion. “I would be delighted to help AZYS and the well-being of its employees,” he says, with a sort of brittle optimism.
Zheng shifts in her seat and opens her satchel, bringing up a small, heavily wrapped package and setting it on the table. “Please, take a look.”
Yves props his elbows on the table, and pushes the coffee aside to examine the package. Carefully. Given recent experience.
It’s heavy. Thick brown parchment paper, taped across the top and the side. It doesn’t SEEM immediately dangerous.
Yves peels back the tape, and unwraps the contents as if he was once the kind of boy who wanted to save all the wrapping paper on gifts. (He was not.)
It’s a lantern. Wood, stained brown. Each side has six panes of glass, arranged in two columns of three. It doesn’t look expensive, but it looks very well cared for. Yves turns the lantern about, and hefts it up to examine the bottom and top. “What’s this from?”
Something pings in Yves’s memory. That is a tonberry lantern. Tonberry lanterns are linked to a tonberry’s lifeforce, burning with a flickering flame.
This lantern is unlit.
Yves squints a little more closely. “What happened to its holder?” he asks. “I’ve never seen one of these alone before. Not in person. Not a real one.”
“That belonged to Elijhaa. He worked with me until… well, until six weeks ago, when an accident…” Zheng looks off into the middle distance. “Unfortunately, Elijhaa’s injuries proved fatal. His belongings were sent back to his family in Bernier in Caerwyn, but we cannot send a lantern in the mail.”
Yves does not drop the lantern. He holds it closely, carefully, and delicately. “Oh. Yes. I mean—no. No, of course not.”
“Your travel would be paid for by AZYS, of course,” Zheng says.
“I see,” Yves says. He begins wrapping the lantern again. “I’ll need an address.”
Zheng adjusts her glasses. “The Valles Estate at the Bernier station in Caerwyn. Your train is booked and is scheduled to leave tomorrow at 9.”
“I’ll be ready,” Yves says, solemnly and professionally, while wondering desperately if he has enough time to do laundry such that he’ll have at least two clean changes of clothes to pack with him. Oh, well, who needs to change? Black wears well. That’s one of the great things about it.
“Thank you very much, Yves. AZYS appreciates your assistance, and this will look wonderful in your employee review. Will you be needing anything else before you leave?” Zheng is already halfway to her feet, used to that answer always being ‘no.’
“Um. Ah. It’s—no! No, I’m good. I’m ready. Will be ready. Thank you for. The opportunity.” Yves attempts to end this verbal flailing by drinking more coffee, discovers his cup is empty, and just sort of mimes coffee-drinking while attempting to project professional calm and focus.
“Wonderful. Safe travels, Yves. Here is my card if you need anything.” Zheng departs, leaving you with the empty lantern and a business card.
Yves checks his inventory. 5000 gil; a business card; an empty lantern; a large quantity of guilt; and no coffee.
The day is, as it turns out, looking up.