Like Real People Do ✶ Aventurine

III. The light from the billboard always shines.

"DO YOU REMEMBER THE INVITE THAT THE EXPRESS RECEIVED?" Having long absolved herself of any oncoming unease in the company of the Nameless, (Y/N) found herself holding a pellucid glass of amber liquid in one hand — and, with the fact left anonymous to her, the mature members of the Astral Express mere metres away. It appeared they had sincere matters to discuss amidst Penacony's renowned debauchery, with her inadvertently within earshot. Ah well, Boothill did tell me to start without him.

A second voice emerged from the chatter, deeper than the previous. "The Family's esteemed guests are cordially invited to Penacony to participate in our grand celebration. That's why we're here in the first place."

"You recall correctly, but there was more to this invite." (Y/N) remembered reading an invitation worded similarly, though there had been no auxiliary aspects. Intrigued, she let her observance linger. "Witness the impossible in the realm of dreams, find the legacy of the Watchmaker, Father of Penacony, and thus the answer to the question: Why does life slumber?"

The enigmatic and prolific figure of The Watchmaker held significant importance in Penacony's founding and history, she had read. Despite the enduring belief in his legendary status passed down through generations, it seemed many citizens of Penacony now regarded him as a conceptual creation of The Family — a member of whom she had encountered earlier. "I don't remember that part of the invite. You mean.. There was a hidden message?"

"This is the part that intrigues me — the invite sent by The Family was nothing more than a music box that, when wound, would play an accompanying tune." The woman's tone was steeped in an assimilation of chicanery and gravity. "But the box that was sent to us was slightly unusual.. the music it played had off-key notes in the background."

"I recorded these dissonant notes, and they were a perfect match with the gravity wave frequency when the Express made its warp jump. Also, the Express engine's spatial curvature was its encryption key." (Y/N)'s fingers tensed around the stem of her glass, and she placed it delicately on the mahogany counter to prevent any spillage. Though not a member of the Nameless, she was well-versed in information regarding most universal factions. And, if memory served her correctly (which it usually did), this was how the Nameless called for aid.

A cough sounded, likely from the same brown-haired individual she had encountered earlier in the hotel lobby. He affirmed her suspicions in an inhibited tone. "A.. distress call method regularly used by the Nameless."

A scintillating diversion had engrossed the Galaxy Ranger upon the mention of additional details, but this was not a matter regarding her — she was attending the Charmony Festival to apprehend a certain woman, not listen as a conversation delved into the intricacies of the trailblazers. Affairs concerning the Nameless were best left within their own domain, and she had no intention of getting entangled in their affairs. With a resigned sigh, she pushed her half-full glass of SoulGlad aside and rose from the velveteen barstool. Perhaps she'd find what she was looking for in the Dreamscape.

 [ ★ ]

THE GOLDEN HUES OF SOL'S SUN BATHED PENACONY IN THEIR SAFFRON EMBRACE, watery sunbeams trickling in through stained glass to wash over archaic articles, each one imbued with a history that seemed to permeate the still air. (Y/N)'s keen gaze flitted from one relic to another, her soft footfalls echoing through the hallowed halls of the museum as her fickle interest darted from one object to another. She'd dance over descriptions of the planets days of yore, ignoring supposedly didactic material in favour of new information.

It was a young bellboy who had recommended the museums and libraries under Sol's gentle gaze, his hesitant words and furtive glances betraying a genuine desire to assist. Who was she to dismiss the earnest advice of one so dedicated to his craft? Besides, whispers had reached her ears of the Primal Waking Library's illustrious reputation among scholars, and with the Intelligentsia Guild gracing The Family's esteemed list of invitees, she couldn't determine a better place to encounter their representative.