Location [Alvadas Location] The Sanity Center

[Ulric]

Ulric took a look at the key before he regarded Serenity.“And you do not know me,” spoke with a cold grin. “Desank, if you would be so kind?” Having already taken up a stance to the rear, the Gasvik was swift to lay hands on the woman’s shoulders. Desank did not seek to harm, but gently ran his claws over the curve of her neck so that she was aware of his presence. “My dear woman,” Ulric shook his head. “If you haven’t already guessed, this is but a formality. I do not have to pay for lodging. I could take what I want, but I was raised to believe that every person deserves a fair shake – even scribes that cheat the working folk.” He threw back his shoulders, glancing over the room again. When he spoke again, there was a faint menace to his words. “As I said, you do not know me. And to keep it that way, you might want to check if there are any more shacks.”

[Fallacy]

The woman's annoyance took a startling turn as the claws were placed on her neck. Looking up at him her hand reached for the key that she had set on the table and removed it swiftly from the surface and back to the drawer from whence it came, "And formalities are always pleasant" she informed him the sound of clinking of many keys coming from it as she rushed and grabbed another key setting it on the table, "Three hundred Gold Miza for two hundred square feet. A shack just like you asked, sir, ready for you and the thing." she said giving him a soft smile trying to ignore the claws at her neck. This had to be the worst day she has had in a while.

[Ulric]

Ulric tried to give her a sweet grin, but having your face busted up so often tended to result in a brutish, sinister cast. “Good, I knew I could count on you to be pragmatic,” he said with a shrug. “You’re screwing me blind even then, but let’s just say the sum includes your discretion, shall we?” Taking hold of the purse, he slowly counted out the right amount of gold, then made the leather bag vanish under his cloak again. “Don’t worry, we can show ourselves out,” he grunted, reaching for the key, and gestured to the Gasvik. They had work to do.

[Laszlo]

Fall 52nd, 511AV Nine and a half bells Thud. The impact of the wooden trunk sent a soft, reverberating echo through the room as Laszlo set it down with a huff. Momentarily he leaned over it, trying to still his labored, exhausted breaths, then turned to shut the door behind him. The Sanity Center, as he expected, had been marvelously easy to find despite the mazelike quality of Alvadas' shifting streets. As such, he was almost disappointed that there wasn't anything odd or remarkable about it. It was just an office, small and sane. How boring. Still, if Laszlo had had to lug this trunk full of money all over town, he probably would have been much worse off (even if no one robbed him). Grunting, he picked up the trunk again with his tired arms, and moved it closer to Serenity Berel's desk, ignoring whatever look she might give him. Her wide eyes looked weary, but focused and discerning. She was actually quite lovely, in a charmingly disheveled way. Laszlo offered a calm smile. "Good morning," he greeted in a breathy voice, batting a tangled piece of auburn out of his face. His glasslike horns shimmered in the low light of the office, thirsty for the sunlight he had just left. Utterly exhausted, he sat down upon the trunk. "I came to inquire about the Thurston building for sale. That was the name on the sign, yes? The one with the moving mosaic. I saw the asking price was 1550gm, so I've brought that with me. I have the written consent of two other investors, and we're interested in buying the building and turning it into a tavern. Is there an arrangement I can work out with you?"

[Fallacy]

Serenity looked up from her desk and smiled at the pleasant man. This was how to be greeted in the morning, ”Good morning.” she said being in a rather cheerful mood today. Nothing has happened yet to make her day sour and she was enjoying it so far. Sometimes the paperwork can be soothing. Listening to the man she nodded, ”That place has been abandoned for a while now. You could purchase it if you would like. I heard the owners are no longer among the living.” she smiled, ”Sad, murdered in that building. There are rumors that they are still there.” she felt it her obligation to tell him a bit of the history behind the building, ”I think it moves a lot because Alvadas wants to hide it.” she pointed out, ”Perhaps you could make it a brighter and happier place.” she leaned over her desk towards the man, ”Come sit down,” her voice lowered as she directed him to the chair by the desk.

[Laszlo]

Murdured? Furrowing his brow, Laszlo found himself staring dumbly at Serenity, attempting to digest the concept. So that's why the building was abandoned? A shudder passed through the Ethaefal as he thought back to the countless times he'd wandered inside of the building's rooms. If what the woman said was true, then one of those rooms had played host to an ultimate act of violence. But which one? Ugh, Laszlo felt wrong, suddenly. Like he had walked over someone's grave. Politely taking his seat at Serenity's desk, he tried to shake of the feeling. Whoever lived there before didn't matter, and neither did what happened to them. People were murdered all the time, by childbirth, in crowded tournament stands, by angry, resentful sons… The world moved on. Why should this be any different? "Uh, yes, perhaps. Here." Laszlo drew out a sheet of vellum, borrowed from Seven's supplies, and laid it on the desk. Written across the paper was a simple agreement, outlining a formal partnership between three men sharing a financial investment. At the bottom were signed three names: Victor Lark, in lacy, loopy lettering. Seven Xu, in a hurried, rough, yet well-structured font. Then finally Laszlo, written in print without ceremony, and identical to the rest of the paper's handwriting. The Ethaefal had yet to grasp the concept of personalized signatures. "The other two investors are recent residents of Alvadas, like myself. Victor Lark and Seven Xu have agreed to split the profits of the tavern with me. I’m Laszlo, of course. No last name." He leaned back in the chair. "In the trunk here, I have our amassed sum of mizas. If there's anything else you need of me, I'll be glad to deliver." There was a pause. "…Murdered how, exactly?"

[Nyahna Sasin]

4th of Winter, 511 AV

Sasin relaxed as he realized he wasn't going to crash into an invisible wall. He readjusted his pack, made sure he hadn't forgotten clothes, patted his weapons, then looked up at the city.

It seemed oddly....normal. Streets, houses, people, it all seemed remarkably plain. Sasin sighed, slightly disappointed. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but it wasn't this, this plainness. For Siku's sake, there was even a "Sanity Center". Although that probably said something about the city.

It was a few minutes before Sasin noticed the road he had been standing on had, at some point, turned into what appeared to be tar. Which he was beginning to sink into.

Trying to stay on top of the tar, he decided that perhaps the Sanity Center should be his first stop. Awkwardly hopping over to the building, he opened the door, and stepped into an empty office. With a solid floor. And a table. And a bell, which Sasin rang, resisting the temptation to steal something.

This was going to be an interesting stay.

[Ciryn]

{Flashback} 8th of Winter, 510 AV

Ciryn entered the building, brushing the mist of her cloak. From outside it seemed to be the only structure that wasn't shifting slightly, ever other building seemed...fluid.
If this is the 'Sanity Center' everything else must be, what? She had been expecting different, but was everything other than where she was standing completely severed from sanity? Alvados was a world away from Talabos, but a jungle all the same. A repeating maze of alleyways and rectangles instead of the bright greens, buildings towered instead of trees, but in more ways than one it felt a little like home.

Ciryn pressed the small bell on the desk, still taking in, or trying to take in, the city around her. Presumably some kind of explanation would come with the bell, but it seemed unwise to assume anything here.

[Al Sahaba Maulakim]

Fall 14, 512 AV

Al Sahaba had walk for a long time, trying his best to keep his eye on the only stationary building in town. Coming closer, he saw slightly mossy walls.He stood at the door, unsure what to do next. He stood there, contemplating his actions,
"Should I go in? What if I make a fool of myself? Maybe I should just go home..."

Then, he felt a sudden urge to rush in, which is what he did. The crowded halls and rooms appealed to Al's thirst for knowledge. He headed to an office, and stood there waiting. Seeing and hearing no one coming, he rang the bell. Then again. And Again. The bell made a lovely sound.

[Mirage]

Sasin: At the sound of the bell a woman appeared, bright and cheeful. She smiled broadly at Sasin, settling herself in the chair behind the desk, shuffling a few papers and setting them aside. Folding her hands neatly before her, Serenity looked up at Sasin, "How may I help you? ***** Ciryn: When the ringing of the bell began to fade, a woman appeared from a back room of the Sanity Center. Her name was Serenity, at least that is what it said on her name tag, and the look upon her face was one of exhaustion. Her hair was untidy and various ink spots marked the front of her shirt and the tips of her fingers, and even the side of one cheek. When she sat at the desk before Ciryn the woman sighed, brushing a hand over her eyes and putting even more ink upon her features. Pushing aside a few papers, and setting the ink as far away as possible, Serenity looked up and smiled a forced smile at Ciryn, "How may I help you?" ***** Al: The sounds of bells filled the air, spinning off the walls to bouncing in every direction. In the back room there could be heard a crashing, and the muted cursing of someone there. After a few seconds, during which the ringing continued, a figure appeared, a woman whose appearance looked haggard and more than a bit stressed. Her hair fell at unusual angles from her head, and her clothing looked as if she had been out on a windy day. Upon seeing Al, Serenity stepped forward, grabbing his wrist and stopping the ringing once and for all. Then, with a look of exasperation she released Al and sat down, brushing aside a tangled curl. When she spoke the annoyance seemed to drip from her tongue, "And HOW may I help YOU sir?"