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The great and honorable Febrisa nests behind her desk of varnished ash, sliding papers around with the tips of her golden claws. The stylishly arranged crimson hairs that make up her mane sway slightly as she weaves hypnotically in the dance of an idle serpent. She does not notice you as you enter her office, distracted by the reports on her desk.

  • Kinqueduran doesn't do anything to draw her attention yet, just fiddles with one of the countless straps on his armor for a moment. Chewing on his tongue a little, he lightly taps on the door.
  • Febrisa swings her head up, letting out a small puff of smoke in surprise. "Caramine! Tea? Biscuits? Bandages? Oh…you aren't bleeding and covered in ichor...is something wrong?"
  • Febrisa uncoils from behind her desk, extending her serpentine bulk across the room, waving in the air slightly as she curls around you to examine you from all sides.
  • Kinqueduran lets that weary, uncomfortable smile briefly crack his face as he steps in. For once, he isn't wounded or carrying a demon's severed head or scowling as he wipes ichor from his shield. Today, he doesn't have his spear or shield, just his armor, and the only weapon he bears is a sheet of thin paper which he offers a little hesitantly to his superior.
  • Febrisa takes the paper in her claws gently and bends her neck down to read it...yellow eyes widen and the massive head returns to hover before you, hair ruffling in agitation "You're resigning? What for? Are you ill? Did you get possessed again?"
  • Kinqueduran shrugs a little, turning his head to avoid meeting her gaze. "I just can't take it."

Febrisa: "That doesn't sound like you. I think you're possessed again. I'm calling the exorcists."

  • Febrisa extends her neck past you to bellow for the exorcist squad.

Kinquedura: "I'm not possessed. I'm tired."

  • Febrisa looks back over her neck. "You've never been tired before."
  • Kinqueduran shrugs again, and it starts to show through that 'tired' has nothing to do with it. He crosses his arms, thoughtlessly revealing a note stuffed between feathersteel plates. "I've been tired for a long time. I just finally broke."
  • Febrisa peers at the note..."Mmm...does *that* have something to do with it?"
  • Kinqueduran blinks, glancing down. "Umm...that? No, no. That's .. er ... that's a ... from my girlfriend?"

Febrisa: "You don't have a girlfriend."

Febrisa: "You said that girl I tried to set you up with was too clingy. The nomad. That was here once a month. For three hours."

  • Kinqueduran pretends, badly, to be offended. "How would you know? I do *so* have a girlfriend she's .. she's just ... dammit."

Kinqueduran: "Look, I just can't do this anymore. Maybe it's temporary, but don't think so."

Febrisa: "Well, in spite of bureau policy, I will not hold you to your position. You've made your bi-century quota of assignments already. So I'll give you a two-century leave of absence, with severely reduced pay...we'll talk in two hundred years. That'll just have to do, you know. I simply can't go any further."

  • Kinqueduran shrugs, starting to turn towards the door. "It'll suffice, I guess. Do you need me to return the gear I was issued?"

Febrisa: "No, no. Knowing you, you'll be needing it. Is that all?"

Febrisa: "Oh, I'm going to have to confiscate your name until you're back on duty. So you'll need something else."

  • Kinqueduran nodded a little. "My real name probably misses me anyway."

Febrisa: "Anything else? Tea? Biscuits?"

  • Kinqueduran glances over his shoulder with that uncomfortable smile again. "I should probably clear out of my apartment, but that could probably wait a little. Tea and biscuits sound fine."
  • Febrisa spits a wad of fire into a teakettle, which promptly whistles loudly. "Sit, sit. I just made these.."

  • Kinqueduran begins clearing out his spartan one-room apartment. The only decorations are a collection of five bamboo-hafted spears, and the only furnishings are a floor desk and a brutally basic bed. Kinqueduran is rummaging through a chest, plucking out a series of red-lacquered wood cylinders.
  • Nine-Roads knocks harshly at the door of your apartment.
  • Kinqueduran looks up from the chest, setting the cylinders down. Walking to the door, he brushes a little dust off of his armor just before opening it.
  • Nine-Roads smiles broadly at you and enfolds you in a warm hug before you can say anything. Releasing you, the kind-faced Yellow eyes you carefully. "I heard you've taken a leave of absence, I just had to come see what's wrong."
  • Kinqueduran 's smile looks just a little more uncomfortable than usual as he steps back when released. "I'm fine, really." Of course, it was common knowledge that Carmine Rain Hunter hadn't been fine for at least ten years.

Nine-Roads: "You don't seem fine, taking a leave of absence! It's a short one, I know...but why, Caramine?"

  • Kinqueduran drops the 'I'm okay' facade, sighing and slumping into a chair. "The job's been grating on me for a while, and I just got wind of some shit that just broke me, I guess."
  • Nine-Roads tsks at you, reaching into a handbag and producing a miniature soup bowl which uncovers itself. After the cover finishes transforming into a soup spoon and the bowl makes a musical chime, having finished heating, she hands it to you. "Eat up. You'll feel better. Now, tell me all about this. You really need to talk more, Caramine."
  • Kinqueduran sets the bowl in his lap and looks down at it for a minute, then back up at the Chosen of Mercury. "I don't talk much because I've nothing worth saying. Anyway, Xansha's dead."
  • Nine-Roads is momentarily shocked, her face falling. "Dead? What happened? Should I go with you? I can get a leave of a few decades. I've saved my vacation time.."
  • Kinqueduran digs the note out from in between two lacquered plates, offering it to Nine-Roads. "Here, this is all I've got on it."
  • Nine-Roads skims the three-sentence note. "Well. This Anstice person isn't very informative...he's one of Mistress Niestro's other students, right?"
  • Kinqueduran nods a little sarcastically. "S'what I've been led to believe, at least."

Nine-Roads: "Do you want me to come along, Caramine?"

  • Kinqueduran frowns. "I don't need help." The very statement that preceded every one of his messiest missions.
  • Nine-Roads pats your arm sympathetically, though her eyes have a skeptical look behind their warm, buttery kindness. "Well, if you need me, I'll be around to help. Do keep me informed."
  • Kinqueduran smiles one last time. "I'll try. I need to finish getting my things together, though. I need to get to Xansha's citadel as soon as possible."

Nine-Roads: "I have to be going as well, there's a problem in the Haslanti states...I'll be checking on you though." rising, the Yellow gives you another warm hug "You take care of yourself."

Kinqueduran: "Right ... you too."


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