Session 2 - A Chance Encounter At The Velvet Sundown

Previously, across the Horizon… Our heroes all found themselves on the same train, though all traveling for different reasons, winding their way through the beautiful landscapes of Caerwyn.
As they passed the time in what proved to be the most interesting car in the world, they met a fairly diverse selection of people, from the multi-level marketer that was Kurt Heibel, to the unwilling seer Ingrid Augurelt, to the exuberantly drunk Zamarud Pantaglios.
None of their visitors were more concerning, or more interested in their words, as Cid Tantalus, who seemed bent on finding someone with a definition of ‘hero’ that matched his own. Orrey’s response seemed to resonate with Cid, and the older man gave a small, dense key to Orrey, claiming it powered an airship far away that carried The Truth onboard, and that Orrey needed to see this Truth safely to Mechon.
No sooner had Cid left than Aramog Sydney, a moogle claiming to be part of an organization that once served as Alterna’s secret police, came and asked about him, specifically if he had attempted to pass anything off to any of them. She spoke of a stolen Alternan airship, secrets and answers that would be spirited away for personal profit.
We join our heroes as Sydney gives them all appraising glances, one after another, not quite sure how to proceed…
Isa gives Sydney a guileless look. “He left the same door you came in from, so you’d have seen him more recently than we have.”
Sydney looks from Isa to Bast to Orrey, and then back to Isa. “If he did go through that door, I am sure I would have seen him.”
Linnet is still hovering in front of the bookcase where Orrey hid the key, whistling occasionally as she skims a steamy romance nove.
Isa shrugs. “A mystery for the ages, then.”
Yves mutters to himself, “It’s either secret or it’s—well, I suppose things can be more or less secret, but at that point, who’s it secret from? Is that the secret? Or is it one of those ‘I told you and now I have to kill you’ things?”
Her hands naturally rest on the handles of her twin daggers, though she then remembers herself and crosses her arms in front of her instead. “Did he say anything regarding an airship?”
“He was looking for someone willing to work an airship for him. I don’t believe he found the level of enthusiasm he was looking for.”
Bast mutters in an aside to Ingrid: “Sounds like you’ve traveled a lot more than I have, recently. Is it always this…lively?”
“I can handle the air part, but not so much the ship part,” Linnet volunteers without looking up.
Zamarud attempts to swig from a bottle in an unobtrusive manner, which is just as successful as anyone would expect. Ingrid is keeping herself clear of this, and gives Bast a solid are-you-kidding-me glance.
Yves reaches hopefully for Zamarud’s bottle, because he needs the moral fortitude.
Sydney closes her eyes briefly, and sighs. “I am getting very tired of this. If anyone does approach you on the train and attempts to give you something to hold onto, please take it to one of the conductors. Should you remember anything else about your conversation with him, I am on this train until the Viesen stop.”
“If I see something, I’ll say something.”
With a final glance around the room, Sydney departs.
The train rumbles on.
Yves looks at the closed door. “Should I know whether those are good cops or bad cops, or is /that/ the part that they’re keeping secret?”
Bast rolls his eyes. “So is the theater included in the ticket price?”
Isa waits for a few moments after Syd leaves, and then sweeps a look around the rest of the car. Zamarud waves to Isa cheerfully. “So,” Isa says. “I have no context for any of this, and I’m not really sure I care. But I really did not like her attitude.”
“Seemed like a narc,” Yves says.
Linnet withdraws the key from its slot on the bookcase and weighs it in her hand thoughtfully. “I’m of a mind not to leave this on the train, myself.”
Bast leans over and softly taps Zamarud on the shoulder. “Anything left in that bottle? This feels like the sort of day you don’t face sober if you can help it.”
Zamarud gladly hands over the remaining fifteen percent of the Level 99 Red Chcoobo bottle. “All yours, my haunted friend.”
Isa walks back to her chair, and her own bottle. “I’ll be departing at Bernier and transferring to the Kinneas line. After that, I’m heading to Caelonde, which if I remember right isn’t that far from Mechon.”
Yves watches mournfully as the bottle passes him by. Alas, alas, life is full of woes. “I have an important delivery to make, but after that, I’m certainly interested what happens if I pay attention to strange men handing out keys to airships.”
Saluting Zamarud with the bottle, Bast takes a long sip and closes his eyes, smiling in appreciation. “That’s magic in a bottle, right there.” He exhales softly as he leans back and takes in the scenery outside and the company in the cabin, looking much less put-upon, and offers what’s left in the bottle to Ingrid. Ingrid politely declines.
Linnet looks thoughtful. “I’m supposed to be book hunting near Bernier, but I could probably courier whatever I find back to the university…”
Orrey raises an eyebrow at Linnet’s mention of a book, but does confirm his itinerary has him departing the train at Bernier.
“At worst, it’s some sort of convoluted scam and we all end up disappeared into a secret prison somewhere indefinitely,” Yves says, more cheerfully than anything else he’s said on this train so far. “And if it’s a secret prison like those were secret police, people will find us there soon enough.”
Linnet stops. “…wait, hang on. I don’t even know you people. Are we starting to make plans based on nothing other than a shared dislike of secret police people and a weird old man’s crpytic comments?”
“Yes?” Yves tries. “I’ve made plans based on worse things…”
Still smiling faintly, Bast passes the bottle over to Yves.
“I’ve only shared my travel plans with fellow travelers,” Isa points out. “But you’re right. I’m being rude. I’m Isaline,” she offers with a raise of her glass.
“Not rude, just, well, a little cautious. Linnet,” she replies.
“Bast.” He takes a tiny seated bow. “So. Does anyone actually want that thing?”
Yves chugs, but doesn’t finish the bottle off. Because that wouldn’t be polite. “Yves, and I’ll take it if no one else will, though that’s probably a bad idea because I tend to misplace things that aren’t, like, mass spectrometers or otherwise fairly large, and whatever that thing is, it doesn’t strike me as an item I could spot at a glance in a messy room. If I had one handy. The room, I mean.”
Ingrid shakes her head. Zamarud seems quite interested in the key, but he’s interested in everyone and everything right now.
“I’ll admit I’m curious,” Bast says. “And, well – when you’re not going anywhere in particular, one destination is as good as the next, and this one seems to come with a mystery attached.”
“We’ll give you plausible deniability, Orrey, but I for one vote to hang onto the thing and see where it leads,” Linnet says, turning the key over in her grasp. “Anyone else got any pressing destiny for today?”
“I have an agenda, not a destiny,” Isa clarifies.
“Delivery, not destiny,” Yves says. “Sort of an anti-destiny delivery, even.”
Isa watches the landscape sail by. “Pickup, here.”
Bast briefly roots around in his bag, one hand brushing the secret pocket to make sure the crystal is still there. “Looking for an old friend.”
Yves offers the very last bit of the bottle out to whoever wants to take it. “Are we all on mysterious business, or is it just that the secret police thing is making us paranoid? Not that I’m paranoid. I mean, I’m almost never paranoid, and definitely not without cause, at which point it’s not paranoia, right?”
“The contents of the books I’m looking for are fairly mysterious, but estate sales and auctions are only ever so spooky. Usually.” Linnet slips the key down her shirt front. “They never search there.”
Bernier Station is a quaint little stop, nestled in between a gently sloping hill dotted with white flowering trees and a sparkling blue lake. One of Caerwyn’s signature estates can be seen across the lake, white stone and red rooftops, at least six buildings strong. A sailboat drifts lazily around the lake. The station itself has a few buildings; a pair of restaurants, a medical office, a post office, and a church. From the notes splashed across the window, this would be a church to Somnus, goddess of the night, of dreams, and of music.
The train has departed, leaving Orrey, Linnet, Bast, Isa, Yves, and Ingrid behind at the station.
While all of you have business here, Ingrid does not. She’s been convinced — fairly easily — by Bast to stay along to learn more about these visions. As she had finished her fruitless journey through Machanon and was in no hurry to return to Saron, she acquiesced.
Yves has a bag slung over one shoulder on a long strap, and a smaller, rather cylindrical bag with a handle clasped in his other hand. “…how…quaint.”
Isa’s only luggage is a boringly functional duffle bag, slung cross-wise on her back. Lashed to the outside of it is an equally functional but presumably less boring broadsword. “Do any of you know where I can find the timetable?”
Bast looks around to make sure they’re not about to get ambushed by any of their more…colorful acquaintances from the train. His bag and what looks like a heavy toolbox are the extent of his luggage.
There is only one other person outside here, likely a sylph, sitting on a wooden bench on the brick sidewalk, sparkling blue hair falling down over one shoulder, her skin an almost gleaming ivory, all of her attention on the elaborate copper telescope in front of her.
Linnet quietly stashes her overstuffed backpack by the side of the bench and sits down beside her fellow sylph. She tries to follow the line of the telescope and discover what Telescope Lady is observing. …maybe an airship, maybe just clouds, maybe she’s watching the birds circling over the lake. Unclear.
For his part, Bast seems more interested in the engineering of the telescope itself.
Isa, uninterested in the optical arts, starts looking around for an information desk or a time table or some other way of determining how long she must abide in quaintness before her next train.
Yves looks around with the uncertain air of someone who’s not quite sure if there’s going to be someone to meet him, or if he’s going to have to walk in his stylish black boots to an actual restaurant and/or residence himself.
Ingrid ambles around the little square until she finds the timetable by the menu for one of the restaurants. “Trains head south to Kinneas twice a day except on weekends, so the next train there leaves, um, tomorrow at 8 PM.”
Isa exhales heavily. “Of course it does.”
The sylph hums happily to herself, likely in tune with the background music, as she adjusts the focus.
“I suppose we can enjoy the…” Yves stares at the available nouns. “…atmosphere?”
Orrey digs through a folder. “It didn’t say what to do at this point…”
“Any cool birds?” Linnet asks, still not taking her eyes off the sky.
“I’m trying to see if I can see any signs of the old moon,” she says, her voice low. “Sometimes this time of day you can see the little hints of the ring, and it just makes me so happy every time.” She chews on her tongue, peers around the edge of the telescope, then belatedly realizes someone’s actually talking to her, and turns a nice accent color of pink. “…hi! Have you, um, been here long?”
“Just got off the train, really. I was curious, that’s all. I’m Linnet. That’s a fascinating telescope. Do you do most of your stargazing during the day?”
“Not usually, but I was just so struck by the sunset, and how the moon looks cast against that brilliant sky and the wisps of the clouds…” she sighs, overcome by the art. “I’m Perilune. I’m an Astrologian. Do you want to be one too?”
“I confess I hadn’t put much thought into becoming one…I’m kinda fresh out of school myself. I do love reading books about the sky, though. Um…you’re Air, right?”
Linnet is met with the blankest look at that question. Not unkind, just… lost?
Linnet fills the space. “Wind. Sorry. And…while I’m leaving my companions hanging here, where’s the best place to grab a late dinner?”
“Oh. Oh! Um, ice? Water?” She concentrates for a moment, looking up at the sky, and then looks back down, that same pink color slightly spreading across her cheeks. “Oh, the best place for dinner is right here, the Velvet Sundown. They have a lot of vegetarian options, too! They have a Gysahl Green salad, but don’t worry, it’s not actually gysahl greens, they just look like it. I think it’s kale. Do you want to get a bite to eat?”
“Love to. Hey guys! Mind if we bring Perilune along? She knows a great place for dinner, and…um. Where are we staying…” Linnet pulls a tiny notebook from her back pocket and flips to the address of the estate’s guest quarters.
Yves just mouths “kale” in horror.
“Well, far be it from me to turn down…the lead of someone with what look like actual plans for a place to sleep.” Bast turns to Ingrid. “Can I buy you dinner?”
Ingrid is momentarily surprised, and then quite charmed. “Yes, you absolutely may.”
MOMENTS LATER
You are all seated around a corner table, Isa stuck in the exact center, Linnet and Perilune next to each other, Ingrid listening to Bast’s stories, Orrey sketching Yves as Yves finds the best shadow to lurk in. Perilune is a nonstop chatter, constantly trying to draw everyone into conversation, but then immediately running away with the conversation as soon as she gets a chance.
Yves lurks like, if not a professional, at least a skilled amateur.
“…so yes, if anyone wants to be an Astrologian, I can absolutely help with that! The sky is full of wonders and powers, though honestly, the power is far less interesting. The sky. The sky! And don’t think it’s just the stars that are interesting. Have you ever just laid on your back in the grass, felt the morning dew prickling the back of your neck, and watched the sun come up over the horizon?” She closes her eyes to savor the memory like the wine in her glass. “It was the first thing I did when I got here.”
Linnet is mostly just grinning and occasionally taking notes. Her own wine glass is mostly untouched, her salad plate empty. “I have got to get out of the library more often.”
Bast sets his napkin over the empty plate. “So what brought you out this time?”
Isa divides her attention between the conversations happening to either side of her, and uses her mouth to eat and drink – mostly drink – rather than talk.
Perilune most certainly has something else to launch into, but these are divine breadsticks, so she’s momentarily distracted — but she’s watching Linnet very attentively.
Yves has polished off his first glass of wine and is eyeing Linnet’s now. His salad has been picked through thoroughly, the best bits consumed and the inferior bits left behind. This is why heterogenous mixtures are vulnerable to chance and intent both.
“What, me? The senior librarian sent me book hunting. And, um, I was kind of on leave before that.” Linnet slides her wine glass over to Yves.
“What kind of book?” Ingrid asks.
Yves accepts the glass, and slides his salad remains toward Linnet. Some people /like/ kale.
“Old textbooks on magic. I mean, I work at a university library, so that makes sense.”
Bast seems content to enjoy his wine for now, having polished off his meal faster than anyone else at the table.
“They’ve found some holes in their collection, and there’s an estate auction from a collector the Senior Librarian knew, so I’m on a mission. She couldn’t come herself, obviously, the whole library would grind to a halt.” Not really paying attention, she continues munching on Yves’ kale.
Perilune runs through a mental checklist. “Oh, you’re here for the Valles estate sale? They were explaining that to me this morning. Losing two members of their family, right after each other, is just a heartbreaking tragedy.”
Linnet looks even more attentive. “What happened?”
She brushes her hair back behind her shoulder, quite the refraction event in the overhead lights. “Well, the elder Valles achieved his Memoria, I think it’s called? So that one was expected. But the day before, apparently, his son died in a workplace accident.”
Yves swallows a sip of wine the wrong way, and starts coughing violently.
Linnet makes a face. “…that part, I did not know before coming here. Where did he work?”
“A lab in Kuganepo, I think the name of the town is?” She leans in closer to Linnet, looking across the table at Yves. “Is he okay?”
“Probably…Yves, maybe ease up on the wine? What’s going on?” she asks, giving the viera a Look.
Yves rubs his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m good,” he says hoarsely, then coughs again. “I mean, I’m fine. It’s all fine here, how are you?”
Isa looks at Yves. “So, what are you delivering?” she asks bluntly.
Linnet crosses her arms. “Okay, Yves, what’s going on? Because clearly you’re not just choking on some wine.”
“A lantern,” Yves says, and drains the rest of Linnet’s wine glass in one go. No coughing this time.
Ingrid’s eyes widen.
Linnet tips her head. “…someone you knew?”
“So,” Yves says, “what about this book you’re looking for, Linnet? Or is it books? Any particular genre the estate library was known for?”
“History of magic, but that’s probably just a small subset of their library. I’ll be looking for myself too, of course. And you’re avoiding the question, buddy.” Linnet spears a leaf of kale and waves it menacingly in Yves’ direction.
Yves reaches for an empty glass, and then looks at it as if waiting for an explanation. “I seem to be out of wine. Maybe I should get us another bottle.”
Isa tips her glass to inspect it. “Two, I’d say.”
Bast slides his half-full glass over to Yves with a crooked grin.
“I could see what the stars say,” Perilune says, somewhere between warning and a flirtation.
Yves takes Bast’s glass. Drains /that/. Stands up. “I’d like to hear about other people’s errands,” he says. “Since we’re all traveling. Mysterious friends, mysterious things to fetch… I’ll get more wine. Two bottles. Or three. I can expense it. Valid business expense. Right.”
Ingrid looks at Bast next to her. “Who is your friend? The one you’re looking for?”
Isa gives Yves a look approaching sympathetic. “Well. If you’re buying the wine it’d be rude to keep prying.”
“Honey, we’re not going to turn you in to the authorities or anything, we’re just curious.” Linnet withdraws the kale fork.
Yves makes a noncommittal noise, and goes to get the promised wine. He’s pretty sure he can carry four bottles back at once if he does this right.
Apparently done contributing to Yves’ discomfort for now, Bast replies to Ingrid: “His name’s Aurin. Knew him since we were kids, saw him almost every day…and then he just vanished. And no one seems to know anything about it.”
“Aurin wasn’t a tonberry, was he?” Linnet asks.
The moogle seems amused at the mental image. “Nah. Human, tall as a beanpole, and always a little too fond of that blond mop of his. Though to be fair, it is one of his better features.”
Yves returns with three bottles of wine, which is close enough to four to not make a difference, right? He returns to his seat and puts on a Sincerely Interested expression as the missing friend is explained.
“Are you sure he isn’t traveling incognito under the name Heibel?” Isa asks. “‘Blonde Beanpole’ would come to mind.”
“I am wounded and aghast at these aspersions on my taste in friends.” Bast mimes stabbing himself in the heart with a salad fork. “Built more or less like that, though, yeah.”
“Well, I don’t have much room to talk about friends. I’m here in place of one, and he would have run off to become a hero,” Isa says.
Linnet wraps an arm around Yves’ shoulders. “Hey. I know I’m being a bit pushy, but I figure if we’re going to stick together, we might as well tell each other what we’re likely to run into. I only have so much space for weird keys before I’m going to have to go buy a bag. And, well, my boss is a tonberry, and she’s the one who told me about Memoria and about their lanterns, so I promise I’m not just being nosy out of thin air. So if there’s anything we can help with, let it out? I promise not to judge, though I might giggle a little.”
Bast pulls his bag just above the level of the table and shakes it suggestively.
Perilune’s attention snaps to that bag, and she holds her gaze on it for an uncomfortably long moment before returning to all smiles.
“See, Bast, the problem with bags is that they get searched,” Linnet says.
Yves asks Linnet, after pouring himself a fresh glass of wine (and a refill into Linnet’s glass, because as long as it’s right in front of him, heyyyy), “How many mysterious keys are you carrying right now? Is that actually a trend? Did I miss the key trend? Who else has a mysterious key down their shirt? Because I would’ve taken it if the answer is everyone but me.”
Isa holds her glass out towards Yves. “No mysterious keys here. No mystery at all, my plans are an open, stupid, book.”
Bast puts his bag back on the floor and rests his chin on his hands, apparently content to enjoy watching as Yves keeps digging deeper. When she isn’t looking, his eyes flick over to Perilune, appraising their new acquaintance.
Linnet says, “I mean, I’ve just got the one, at least until I figure out what it goes to.”
Yves leans away from Linnet to refill Isa’s glass. “I’m really just. Bringing a lantern home. Wasn’t a friend of mine. No mysterious old friends wandering around either. Very low on mystery right now, I’m pretty sure. It’s like the secret thing. But seriously,” he adds, drinking from Linnet’s glass, “does /no one/ else think the secret police is misnamed?”
Linnet intercepts the conversational dodge. “Yes. Was his name Valles?”
Yves nods, settling back down with his… oh, he’s just holding one of the bottles now. Okay then. More efficient this way.
Linnet leans forward. “…so do you want to come to the estate with me to bring his lantern home? Or are you looking for anything else in the universe so you don’t have to?”
Perilune shifts in her seat. “Do you have an invite to stay at the estate?”
“I’m pretty sure I do? It was somewhere in the senior librarian’s notes. Maybe. Hold on.” Linnet flips distractedly through her notebook.
Your notes do confirm that you, and your “party,” have an invite to stay in one of the guest cottages for the auction. The size of this party is not stated. There are seven people at this table.
“Yes, we’re put up in a guest cottage. Doesn’t specify how many of us, though.” Linnet looks at Perilune a bit shyly.
“Gotta deliver this there, then I’ve got…” Yves waves the bottle of wine vaguely. None of it spills. He has helpfully been filling glasses from this bottle, after all. Probably it’s best if he doesn’t fill anymore now that he’s started drinking directly from it.
Isa looks at Linnet. “Give me a gil,” she says.
Confused, Linnet flips Isa a gold piece.
The coin vanishes. “Great. I’m working for you now, until my train leaves tomorrow night. At a baseline, I’ll be keeping anyone from hurting you. Let me know if you need me to be more proactive.”
Linnet grins and fist-bumps Isa. “Sold! So, um, I’ve got a few days until this auction. Who’s got something more immediate on their plates? Besides kale.”
Ingrid stifles a yawn.
“I have to go pick up a sword from Kinneas,” Isa says. “I should be back before the auction though.”
“I should. Check. Who. The package goes to.” Yves is starting to lose track of some consonants there.
Perilune thinks. “My project is more of a… long-term sort of thing, so don’t worry about me.”
Bast grins. “Plenty of things more immediate than kale. Taxes, researching turtle courtship rituals, watching grass grow…”
The checks come, Ingrid on Bast’s, Perilune on Linnet’s, Yves technically on an expense account. The sun has fully set at this point as you step outside back onto the brick walk, Perilune’s telescope still situated by the bench where Linnet first saw her.
“Dammit, I should have thought to bring in your telescope. Sorry!”
The stars are brilliant, sparkling colors splashed across the night sky.
“Oh, it’s okay!” she says. “It’s really easy to move, and I’m not worried about anyone ever—”
She stops.
There is a figure by the telescope.
The descriptor would probably be ‘standing,’ for lack of anything else. The outline is hazy, the silhouette all you can see, dark and unsteady, shifting and uneven.
Almost more an absence of light than anything else, and it is between the group and the telescope.
And then it turns.
The front of the figure is a great deal like the back, with one terrible, terrible difference.
A mask.
A mask of bone, half of a skull, bleached white. Edges of sea green around the edges, as if the original color just bled away.
The forehead of the mask is cracked, little fragments of bone and plaster wedged around a dull, lifeless ruby embedded in the forehead.
Isa throws her right arm out in front of Linnet (and possibly Perilune if they were close together.) Sometime in the last few moments it became covered in an elbow-length gauntlet, and her sword is in her left hand.
Yves stares. “NOPE,” he says, and turns right back around again.
Linnet, meanwhile, hovers protectively in front of Perilune and moves her hands in a circle. The wind picks up around the party.
Bast shoves one hand into a pocket and pulls out a closed fist, crouching slightly, as if ready to jump.
The figure pauses, hovering, almost glitching closer, the sightless eyes staring straight ahead.