Closed Lets Regret It Tomorrow

Saule and Madeira partake in drugs and bad coping mechanisms

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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Lets Regret It Tomorrow

Postby Madeira Craven on July 18th, 2020, 1:11 am

78th of Summer, 520
"What do you mean Madame Belladonna is busy?"

"I mean she's busy. With a client. You're welcome to wait, but she might be a while..."

"I am her client", Madeira hissed, realizing even as she said it that she was being unreasonable. She rubbed her gloved hand over her aching eyes and took in the scene around her. Obscene decadence was splashed across every inch of the Red Lantern. Gauzy red silk hangings shimmered in a haze of incense and pipe smoke, and low burning lanterns glimmered off the opulent gilded furnishings and the bare, supple skin of the products on display. Men and women lounged in barely anything, speaking in sweet low voices to their customers, their hands always busy about the business of pleasure. In a corner lounge a band played, their fingers dancing expertly across their instruments in a way that was almost sensual.

Madeira knew she shouldn't be here. But she had no wish to sleep, and nowhere else to go.

"Not tonight you're not", the prostitute responded coolly.

Madeira merely nodded. She deserved that. She was the Madame's most regular client, but nowhere near her only one. It stood to reason that one of these days she was going to drop by unexpectedly to see her seduction teacher only to find her otherwise 'occupied' by the men constantly sniffing around her. But why did it have to be now?

"Fine. I'll wait. Could you at least let her know I'm here?"

The woman paused as she took Madeira in. The Spiritist stood in the middle of the lush decadence of the Red Lantern looking like a virgin acolyte in prudishly high white lace and several thousand kina worth of diamonds. But all the carefully groomed beauty in the world couldn't cover the tired bags beneath her eyes and the way the dress hung empty off her boney shoulders. She looked decidedly unwell. The prostitute's expression thawed.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

The whore nodded and spun away on her glittering heels, leaving Madeira to stand there twisting her many rings distractedly around her fingers. Gods, she was tired. But at the thought of turning around and going home to rest her whole body turned cold. She hadn't had a good night's sleep for weeks, and not for lack of trying. But it seemed like every time she laid her head down she was thrust into a nightmare, punctuated with bouts of sleep walking or paralysis. She knew she had to try and sleep eventually, but she wanted to put it off just a little bit longer...

She took an immediate left and headed for the bartender. He might be the only working man in the building with his shirt still on. He was serving drinks from behind a red mahogany counter and smiled kindly as she approached. The bar was small, as it was obviously not the main attraction. Most of the small tables were occupied but the bar itself was empty. Madeira pulled herself onto a stool.

"Miss Craven, it's rare for you to stop for a drink. What can I get you?"

"A water will be fine", she worked up the effort to smile back.

The man disappeared under the bar to hunt for ice from the small ice box, and Madeira slipped her hand into the pocket of her dress. Inside was a square paper packet and a battered blue feather. She had taken to carrying around her stash of Winger, a Wind Reach narcotic, as she went about her day. To her drugs were a were a celebratory thing, taken during festivals or holidays to feel closer to Ionu, her childhood god. It was purely recreational. But as she was pulling herself through the day she found herself desperately craving that extra rush of adrenaline to make it through. Whatever this dream plague was that was affecting Lhavit, it was going to turn her into an addict.

She was not the only person in there indulging in a chemical fix, so she didn't try to hide it as she spread the powdered drug across the fibers of the feather. The very nature of the Red Lantern lent itself to privacy, after all. With a practiced flick she dragged the feather under her nose and inhaled gustily. The bite of it made her eyes water, but immediately it felt like the air was thick with oxygen, and she breathed deeply for the first time all day. A tingling spread itself across the tips of her deadened fingers and the thin skin of her lips as she tipped her head back, basking in the initial feeling. The tiredness she had been carrying around sloughed off of her and pooled at her feet. By the time the bartender returned with her drink she felt as light as the feather still held daintily between her fingers.
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Madeira Craven
long may she reign
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