*apparently Inkstone, the publishing platform, is down (or it just doesn t work for me) so I had to do a little something to post from my phone. Sorry if the quality is bullshi because of that. I hope it won t be the case. Also, to make something clear, the order of events I ll use for Penacony is on discord in detail, but know that it follows this: they went there, did stuff, got stuck in the dream, and the loop began anew with the in-game events. Just to clarify this. So yeah, take care, all of you. Peace out and Deus vult.*
Mark finished his coffee on time, taking more than usual. His way of drinking it was to straight up chug the whole thing, feeling the bitter aftertaste spread out along his tongue. It was something pleasant, but this time he had to prolong the moment. His thoughts were focused on the possibilities ahead, memories of a future he'd experienced once as an observer clashing with the present. The jump would lead to something—an important moment, for his mind wasn't revealing it in full.
"Everyone, are you ready?" asked March, sitting happily in her spot, ready for the planet of festivities. Pom-Pom went ahead with the countdown, and Mark stood there, arms crossed, waiting.
The moment he reached 'One', Mark found himself propelled through a swarm of memories, all of them chewing him up only to spit him out in a foreign room, together with Stelle. They looked at each other, trying to figure out where they were, only for someone to speak from the side. A tall woman, clad in purple, with an odachi resting on her hip. Her eyes seemed to pierce the air, despite the hints of warmth hidden beneath a dead exterior. She felt like a dying world, covered in darkness with a few spots where the sun still reached.
"Two this time?" she asked in a monotonous voice, crossing her arms.
Stelle and Mark stood up, exchanging some quick glances.
"Yeah, sorry to bother, but we just sort of got here one way or another," replied Mark, struggling to keep his head from breaking. The woman in front of him triggered so many things in his mind that even hoping to figure out something was putting a strain on him.
"Just come with me," she replied coldly, keeping her distance as her steps took her around.
"Who are you?" asked Stelle, struggling to understand the entire situation. The woman sighed, stopping in her tracks as she turned to face them both. Mark could feel a familiar something in her, as if something was tugging at his being.
"These questions... have no meaning. But I will answer you as best as I can: This is a border between reality and the Memory Zone, a... dreamscape."
Mark took notes of her words, feeling part of the strain on his mind ease. He was getting access to more information on the go, but focusing on that woman too much was still crushing his mind.
"Right this moment, you and I have coincidentally shared the same dreamscape and appeared in each other's minds. This is the Land of Dreams' inaugural welcome for us."
Hearing that their minds connected, Mark felt a cold shiver run down his spine. It was anything but good news. He looked around, seeing no trace of the shadows that plagued his mind. Hopefully his wasn't connected all that deep.
"Worry not, for very quickly you will awaken from this dream, forget everything that has transpired, with naught but a faint lingering of loss," she added, looking over to Mark, studying him a touch too carefully.
"Yeah, well, lady, I don't plan on forgetting. My mind is a bit too... tough for that."
She closed her eyes, scoffing slightly, but otherwise gave no reaction. Stelle was listening intently, still trying to accustom herself to the place. The woman turned around, looking at them over her shoulder.
"Come with me. I'll take you home."
Having no other choice, both Mark and Stelle followed, walking closely. Mark's eyes were fixed on her sword, studying it carefully. Stelle whispered.
"Mark, just what is going on? This all feels so weird."
He shrugged, glancing sideways at her.
"Well, don't worry, it'll be fine. Just stay behind me, alright? My gut is telling me nothing good."
Walking along the hall, the woman spoke, turning to face them slightly.
"Galaxy Ranger, Acheron... This is what they call me. You can call me whatever you want."
Mark nodded, the name striking a nail in his head, stuttering his steps for a moment.
"I'm Stelle, and he's Mark. We're with the Astral Express."
The introductions were short, and both glanced at Mark as he faked his steps for a moment. They stood before a large door, the likes of which he had never seen before in reality but knew all too well from the game.
"Open this door. Take a look at the mesmerizing dreamscape while you can still remember."
The doors opened with a warp, vanishing in a twirling light. Inside, Mark looked around the halls, while Stelle seemed a bit shocked by the sight. She recalled something, that's what Mark's mind was telling him.
Acheron kept walking ahead, urging them to follow. She began climbing on the wall after walking on a weird yellow substance that went up the wall like a ramp.
"On we go, Stelle," chuckled Mark as he began walking on the walls as well, stepping with no fear. He was used to dreams being crazy, so doing something as mundane as walking on a wall was no issue.
"How is this possible?" thought Stelle, following the two with reluctant steps.
"Why not?" asked Acheron.
"It's a dream, right? You can do fancy stuff in here. I wonder if I could do things like in a lucid dream," said Mark, looking around as he jumped, testing to see if he'd fall to the ground.
"They can hear my thoughts!" thought Stelle, to which Mark laughed. Acheron nearly had a smile on.
"Why not?" she asked again.
Walking on the walls led to them standing on the ceiling, or perhaps the floor. The sight was odd, tinged with deja vu. It weighed heavily on him.
"We're almost there. Can you still walk?" asked Acheron, looking at the two of them. Mark was busy testing if he could fly like in a lucid dream, doing his best to just detach himself from the ground, while Stelle glanced at him like he was stupid. Stelle chuckled, gaining his attention.
"Now, I am become Trailblaze, the Perambulator of Walls," she said smugly, keeping her tone serious.
Acheron scoffed, a tiny smile on her lips.
"You're funny. If you can crack jokes, you're probably fine. I'm worried a bit for your friend here, since he might take off at this rate."
Mark kept trying to fly, giving up on normal attempts and straight up throwing himself in the air. For a moment, he seemed to float, until he fell nose first against the floor.
"Fuck!" he grunted, standing back up, his face flushed.
She scoffed, shaking her head before advancing on their path once more. Mark kept looking around, noticing familiar and new faces scattered here and there. Silver Wolf, Ratio, and some other figures that made him feel a weird sense of deja vu. He blamed it on his memories acting up. Still, the figures were talking among themselves, a few lines audible. Something felt off, but he paid no mind.
Their steps led to the end of the room, where the door awaited. Reaching for it, the hall extended, moving further and further away from them.
"What the?" asked Mark, trying to dash for the end, but it was too far. Suddenly, he found himself diving headfirst into a door as it shut in front of him.
"Damn it!"
"We're here, said Acheron, standing calmly. Mark took a few steps back, keeping Stelle behind him just slightly. The door then opened, revealing a tiny figure—a boy wearing a neat uniform, his white locks cascading over his left eye.
"Welcome to the Reverie! May you experience an unforgettable holiday! If you need any help checking in, please head straight to the concierge..."
The boy vanished, leaving just them in that place. Mark stood next to Stelle, focusing on Acheron with a careful eye. There was a subtle hint of tension in the air, barely felt, but it tugged at Mark's senses.
"Leave this realm and rise as you would on any other day. Forget this fortuitous encounter, and return whence you came." She uncrossed her arms, letting them fall to her sides, the look on her face tame, almost gentle.
"But, before you do, I would make a request of you."
Mark glanced at Stelle, and she shrugged. It was odd, but they were willing to listen.
"You may think it somewhat strange, perhaps even rude, but I wish to know... Have we met somewhere before?"
Mark knew the question, but he was taken aback. Hearing it so blatantly, paired with a gaze that seemed to see through him, was something that rattled his heart. It was almost as if she had seen him behind the screen, waiting for an honest answer.
"I think we have... but who am I to say so?" replied Mark, keeping the slight waver in his tone in check. Why did the line feel so familiar?
Stelle simply brought a hand to her chin, thinking for a moment before shaking her head.
"I don't know."
Acheron's eyes fell on Stelle, looking past Mark as if he wasn't there.
"You evoke memories of an old friend. In the haze of my recollections, he crossed blades with me, much like this surreal dreamscape where we stood close, yet forever out of reach."
Mark needed nothing more. The words brought a single name to mind, that of Kaslana. He felt a few tears prickle at the corner of his eyes, the emotions brought out. A past that had been ruined once more, something that maybe he could one day fix. That hope was part of him, but the powers needed to make it a reality were just a dream.
Acheron stepped closer, moving past them both, but Mark didn't let go of Stelle, holding her by the wrist as he braced himself, standing in front of her.
"May I ask you a few more questions?" continued Acheron, pacing slowly until she stopped once more. "I... tend to forget things—which is why, rather than memories, I'm accustomed to using my emotions to capture what I normally wouldn't otherwise. The answer is inconsequential. Your spontaneous reaction is what matters."
She kept looking at Stelle, her gaze unwavering. Mark felt like a filler character, but then he did remember that he was exactly that, someone who joined the already completed fray.
"For instance, when you awaken in your room, your lips speak several names. Are they your companions? Family? Enemies? You seem to have forged unbreakable bonds with many people and many incidents..."
Mark didn't like that question, and it also seemed to lack sense for him. She was questioning Stelle, but her gaze turned to him as well.
"May I ask if you two fear losing these bonds?"
Finally, she had added him in the equation as well, which did make him feel included, but it also disturbed him slightly. Such a question was dangerous territory for him. He knew it all too well. The hint of a shadow flickered in the corner of his eyes, and he felt a subtle touch on his shoulder. He looked back, but no one was there.
"I cannot bear such a fear," confessed Stelle, looking downcast at the thought of losing the people she cares for.
Mark forced himself to swallow a knot he didn't even know rested in his throat, letting out a heavy sigh.
"I do... and I did lose some of those bonds... the most precious to me. Life goes on, but... I'd go to unmatched lengths to get them back, yet... I'd never discard the new ones for the old. I treasure them all, thus, this is where my selfishness is born."
She hummed, closing her eyes for a moment, breathing out softly as she prepared a second question.
"Mm... Then, if there was a vast dreamscape, so lifelike it's indistinguishable from reality. There, no one faces life's separations or deaths. Everyone attains their deserved happiness and lives joyfully ever after."
The tension grew again, this time from Mark. The words, familiar as they were, carried more weight to them. He tried deciphering them, only for his mind to block him off. That meant they were important for the future as well, a subtle detail he had to think of.
"I would ask: Would you wish to stay?"
Stelle shook her head, crossing her arms.
"I would never want to live in a dream," she said steadily, the confidence in her voice unwavering.
Mark held Acheron's gaze head on, the two of them clashing. She felt familiar on more levels than knowing the character ahead of time, and he felt familiar to her too in something none understood at the moment.
"Never. Dreams are just desires, but not all desires are good for us. We want things back, things we lost, but... we don't accept that loss is part of life, a part needed that keeps a greater cycle going. Life would become stale if no change came."
She nodded, stepping closer. She took a bit of a sinister stance, her lips pursed in a thin line, stale.
"Now... imagine if this splendid dream were fated to fall apart: friends, family, strangers; followed by the gentle breeze, soaring birds, the stars... and ultimately, yourself."
Mark's heart clenched in his chest, the words striking a dulled nerve that still pulsed. Shadows nearly swarmed him in an instant, just for a split second. He could feel their claws try to drag him away. Acheron's question went on.
"Everyone and every face they remember, the joys and the heartaches, the vows sealed and those left hanging... all will inevitably march towards a predetermined ending. If you had grasped the journey's finale right from the inception..."
Her tone grew somber, dropping a touch in sound.
"I would ask: Would you still embark on this journey?"
Stelle was thinking, her answer prepared, just put into words slowly.
"I would blaze a trail without hesitation."
She beamed with confidence, stable in her choice, grounded in the desire to keep going. Mark had thought about it before, experiencing it in a mundane form.
"Just because someone spoiled a book doesn't mean I won't read it. The emotions are real, the adventure is real... and if I get to live knowing the ending..." He clenched his fist, feeling his nails press on the inside of his palm, keeping him grounded. "I would make sure to change the ending. We all know we'll die at some point, but we keep living. If we knew when we'd die, we'd try to change it. Some consider fate as fixed, but I know it is nothing but the consequence of specific actions. I'll gladly stand against fate itself."
Acheron nodded, taking his answer with a tiny curl of her lips.
"You talk about something grand. Are you sure you can achieve that?"
Mark stared at her, simply saying one single thing.
"No."
Stelle looked at him as if he just said that he sees sounds. Even Acheron was a bit shocked, her smile faltering slightly.
"Yes... I'm not sure I can do it. No need to lie. But... I do know I can try... and I do know I did it a few times..."
She nodded, returning to her own dialogue, asking what was left in her mind.
"Hearing, touch, thought—through these, you gain emotions—cherish them. With emotions, we make choices. And so, we return to the original question..."
She stared at them both.
"I would ask... Do you still remember me?"
Mark felt his mind crumble upon itself, twisting and turning as it tried to seek an answer for it. He did remember her, but part of his mind bled out, screeching in pain as he forced a twisted answer. He clenched his head, holding it between both palms as he fought the vertigo, steadying himself on his feet.
"I feel like I remember you," replied Stelle, helping Mark. She was used to his little crises, thus, this happening didn't bother her as much as it used to.
Meanwhile, Mark struggled to keep his thoughts coherent, his vision blurry, darkened by a cloud of nothingness, watching it linger in the corner of his eyes.
"I... I remember..."
He stopped trying to find a logic in it, accepting that his mind didn't want him knowing something, thus, he chose to ignore it all together. His answer was said, so pushing against the mental wall had no meaning.
"I see... For you, Stelle, it felt like countless versions of you, alike yet distinct, gave entirely different responses. As for Mark, there's just one answer... the same, no matter when."
Mark looked at her, standing straight again, still feeling the way his stomach wanted to spill out its content.
"That was my final question, thank you. We all have our paths to walk, so we shall bid our farewells."
"Will we meet again?" asked Stelle, still half a step behind Mark, who put himself in the middle as casually as he could.
"The golden dream is getting restless. In the coming nights of long, I'm afraid you will face many tribulations and witness many tragedies. And finally... your sight will only see black and white."
She lowered her arms, determination evident in her speech. That was no mere game, it was something far more disturbing.
"But please believe me that in that monochrome world, there will be a glimpse of fleeting red, and when you make a choice, it will reappear before you once more..."
She stepped closer, hand on her sword. Mark prepared, watching carefully, his body running on 25% output, what he could do without hurting himself too much.
"What you must do now is ponder its significance."
She passed them both, with nothing happening, but Mark moved nonetheless, trying to grab something he didn't even see. Sparks flew from his gauntlet, but he got hit nonetheless, his attempt futile in face of sheer strength.
"And then... you can return to the waking world..."
A crimson tear fell on her face, her steps going.
"That's where we all find our answers."
Both Mark and Stelle were struck, the impact coming with a strong delay for some reason that was unknown to him. Perhaps it was the dream world, or maybe she was just so fast that she could play tricks like that with them. Nevertheless, Mark felt his insides spill out in a mess.
Both he and Stelle awoke on the couch in the Express, panting heavily. Mark clung to the memories, striving to remember the scene. Even as the memories tried to flee him, his mental grasp on them was too great. His mind was trained to never let go of memories when they come to him, thus, the dream remained a part of him.
Tears fell along Stelle's cheek, as if she were scared. Mark gently shook her shoulder.
"Hey, calm down, alright? No need to worry that much. It was just a dream."
She nodded, calming down, looking at him with wide eyes that were puffy from the tears.
Pom-Pom came over, looking worried.
"Stelle, what's wrong? Why are you crying all of a sudden?"
She sighed, resting against the couch, Mark's hand still on her shoulder.
"I may have dreamed of an old friend..."
Mark knew the answer better. Acheron, a mysterious Galaxy Ranger. Those words felt wrong, mismatched, but they didn't make his head buzz as thinking them wrong. Pom-Pom was still worried, his tiny hands moving around.
"S-Sounds like you had a nightmare. We just arrived in Asdana and already... You should be careful, it seems your tolerance to memoria isn't the strongest."
He began speaking a bit more cheerfully.
"Don't fret, dreams are often the reverse of reality. While you were sleeping, the Express arrived at Penacony."
Mark jumped to his feet, stretching.
"Alright, time to get out and see what the hell is bound to happen in that place."
*Well, well, here we are. I'm trying the new approach still, with a shit ton of dialogue and hopefully I won't fuck it up :))
Let me know what you think. Peace out and Deus vult.*
Mark stood there, silently waiting, while Stelle went ahead to fetch March. Himeko and Welt went ahead to the hotel, while they were left behind since both Stellaron possessors were out cold.
The duo emerged from the other room, chatting away about all the things they wanted to do there—especially March, since she's been waiting for a vacation for a long time.
"I see that you have a lot of plans, March. Maybe you won't spend your entire allowance there," chuckled Mark, crossing his arms as he began walking out with them. He didn't bother with luggage since the Express would always be around. Plus, it was pretty sure that he wouldn't get a room to stay in, or at least that's what he thought would happen.
March pouted, smacking his shoulder.
"Hey, don't worry. Pretty girls have to buy pretty things. Plus, you should be ready since there is a shopping session coming up when we have time. Hope you didn't forget about it. You might want to save up for that."
Mark tensed up, and Stelle grinned from ear to ear. Mark simply sighed, his shoulders slouching. He did get himself deeper into the mess.
"Fine, fine, but we'll do it my way. And don't worry about my savings, I got someone backing me up with quite the nice sum as my salary for being a lab rat," he smirked, gaining a bit of his confidence back. With how much Herta paid him, he couldn't help but be slightly worried that she did something to him while those 100 years of his were going on.
"Let's just get going now," said Stelle, pushing them both towards the door. Mark had to carry their luggage, because that's how it goes, so he simply put everything on his shoulders, walking with ease.
The entire entry protocol was long and tiring, and Mark had been inspected a few times thanks to his shady outfit. At some point he nearly got into a fight with some of the personnel, because some 'dumb fuck', as he put it, didn't want to accept that his gauntlet was not a weapon—even if Mark was close to proving him right by punching him in the face.
"We're here at last! The Family sure doesn't play around with their entry protocols. Our bags probably know what it feels like to be a celebrity now with all the attention..."
March eyed Mark, glaring subtly at him with a tinge of irony in her voice.
"I'm so glad we had our bodyguard here to make sure nothing happened to them."
He was more than pissed already, so her comment only earned an outright death threat sent nonverbally through eye contact. She took a step behind Stelle, suddenly tame.
"I hate these things, but we're finally in," sighed Mark, uncrossing his arms, losing some of the tension that had built up in him. He was still shaking slightly from anger.
"Let's just go inside and see what's happening," said Stelle, trying to not mind the two jokesters that ate away at her mind.
Their eyes were glancing around, the hotel surmounting all expectations. Countless rows were stacked together, with more rooms than Mark could count. Rather than trying, he gave up, just looking around as they went.
"Well, the hassle was worth it—just look at this grand hotel lobby! All those endless rows—they're all rooms, right? Just think of the number of guests staying here," beamed March, her childlike curiosity and amazement resurfacing again.
Mark shuddered at the thought of that many people, thinking about how loud the atmosphere must be and how annoying it would all feel for him. Plus, the more people, the more chances of incidents taking place. Out of habit, he kept looking around for exits, possible items to be used for whatever situations. He forgot for a split second that he had powers.
"Let's just go to the reception or wherever we should be. This place is already making me feel a bit... odd."
That odd feeling was nothing other than deja vu. Was it because of the dream with Acheron? Or maybe his memories that came undone? No, he knew that something else was happening. His memories didn't trigger him like that, while the dream itself lacked substance about the exterior of the hotel. No, it was a new thing altogether.
As they kept going, March sped up ahead, leaving Stelle and Mark behind. To the side, the boy from the dream appeared, his visible purple eye staring at them both.
"Welcome to the Reverie! May you experience an unforgettable holiday! If you need any help checking in, please head straight to the concierge."
Those words were the same as the dream. Mark was perplexed, straining his face to show no hint of doubt or turmoil.
"Do you work at the hotel?" asked Stelle, glancing at him with careful eyes.
"I am Misha, a bellboy, working here on Penacony. Pleased to be at your service."
He looked at Mark, who still carried the luggage.
"If you need any help with your baggage..."
March suddenly called out for them two, stating that something's wrong there. Misha nodded, quickly finishing.
"Should you need assistance with moving your luggage to your room, feel free to contact me. Please, go ahead, don't keep your friend waiting."
The two rushed to the reception, and March was already annoyed.
"Hey, what's the big gathering at the concierge about? We've just arrived, and there's already drama?"
The issue was simple, and Mark had a clue. It was about the name missing on the list. They had Dan Heng written there, meaning that Stelle and himself, for that matter, were missing on the list.
"Something came up in Dan Heng's schedule, and he couldn't make it. I have an idea—could you reassign his room?" asked Welt, trying to bargain. Yeah, Mark thought that it was done for him. Just as he recalled, four rooms. He'd either find a way to enter the Dreamscape through some shady means or simply stay outside and miss out on the fun.
"Great. I draw the short end of the stick again," he thought, keeping his face unbothered. He simply settled down the luggage, making sure to be careful with it.
Meanwhile, Himeko and Welt were still trying to make it work, with her stating she can vouch for Stelle's status as a member of the Express. It was simple, really... The world wasn't made for him to begin with. A few shadows gathered in his vision, and he felt someone knock into him while walking. He turned around, but the crowd of people waiting there wasn't helping at all.
"Must have been someone from the crowd," he muttered.
The lady at the reception tried to apologize, starting to weave her excuse, until the crowd parted, making way for a single man to walk in. He was a bit shorter than Mark had expected, half a head below him, but the expected aura of confidence and sheer luck was pungent in the air.
"It's just that right now, we're on the eve of the Charmony Festival, Penacony's most important moment of every era. And with the Family's invite, all guests from all over the cosmos have thronged this place..."
March scrutinized him visually, looking up and down at the man, trying to understand just who he is and what's his bidding. Mark's head nearly split the more he kept thinking, so he dropped the attempt.
"Hotel security is on high alert, with zero room for error. And with such a last-minute change, it really isn't something that this young lady's words can resolve on a whim."
He gave a bright smile, one of the most realistic fakes Mark had seen, only for it to turn into an understanding expression. He knew it all the best. Scarce were the details about the man, but the gambler's luck and name of Aventurine came to him. The IPC's man. Mark wasn't about to drop crumbs, so he bit his tongue back.
"My esteemed guests from the Astral Express, please do not make it harder for her."
Welt and Himeko were subtly on high alert, the sudden interference not something they adored.
"I'm sorry for all the troubles our check-in seems to have caused. Might I ask for your name?"
Welt was calm and polite, with sternness in his voice.
"I am the humble Aventurine of the IPC's Strategic Investment Department. A Non-Performing Asset Liquidation Specialist and subordinate of supervisor Diamond. I was cordially invited by the Watchmaker..."
The name stung Mark in the head, the feeling already annoying more than painful. Every single name, term, place, just about everything around him kept triggering that in his mind. He reached for his nose, but nothing was there.
"I also happen to be a traveler who's had to stay behind you for quite a while," he added, not turning back to look at the long line that waited behind. Mark scoffed silently, nearly glaring at the people who were not-so-patiently awaiting their turn.
"Leave it to me," whispered Himeko to Welt, doing the thing that led to Mark growing fond of her.
"I've heard that the IPC has also received Penacony's invitation, so forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you must be the representative. The IPC's elite certainly does have an extraordinary air about them. I suppose such an exceptional figure such as yourself wouldn't mind paving a convenience for us?"
The deadliest trick in the book. Beautiful woman, sweet voice paired with sweeter words, and then the driving nail—that's a chance for the man to prove himself and gain favor in her eyes. Mark was fighting back the urge to do something drastic, so he just waited.
Aventurine quickly flipped the script, switching to his very 'humble' nature.
"I must be hearing things: Paving a convenience? Shouldn't I be saying this to you instead?"
He took a bit of a different tone, playing some stupid game that Mark disliked.
"I've been waiting here for ten minutes. Do you know how many credits ten minutes is worth for me?"
Mark sighed, putting his hands in the coat's pockets, the fabric making a soft noise as he walked closer. He looked down at Aventurine, smiling a bit, his tone good for making jokes.
"I guess enough for you to play an interesting sum on the roulette. Don't worry, a man of your renown will surely make quite a nice sum like that, just by betting it all on red. Let's be honest here, ten minutes isn't that much, and we both know it."
Aventurine looked him up and down in a flash, the man preparing himself for the strange character that stood at his side. It seemed that the IPC lacked information on Mark.
"Oh, I'm just a 'humble' man who loves traveling just as much as you do. Still, I have learned to hone my patience too. Still, you know how it goes in this world: scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. So, maybe 'paving' a tiny something for us here would be a nice way for us to help you with another issue in the future, I'd say."
The man had a slight glimmer of something in his eye, like a predator ready to jump the most pitiful prey possible. It was two cunning bastards who weren't shy about nearly calling things by name.
"Well, well, well. I do like what you suggest, after all. You must be a Trailblazer as well, so I take it that your word holds meaning. I'll be looking forward to spending more time with my new acquaintances, then."
Mark smirked, reaching for a handshake, which Aventurine gladly took. Still, he made sure to grip just a touch firmer than needed, to which he got an answer in kind.
"Well, I shall go the extra mile and have you scratch my lower back too by asking if it's possible to get an extra room in here. I wasn't present when the invitation was extended, but I'd like to spend some time here as well with my dear friends."
Aventurine looked at the lady at the reception, giving a brief nod.
"You heard him. Please allow the gray-haired lady to check in on my account, and do put any expenses for a new room on my tab. I want my friends here to enjoy themselves."
He took a knowing look towards Stelle, as if assessing something, but Mark simply stood next to him, smiling just enough to seem polite.
"I have an appointment with The Family's Mister Sunday. I will ask him to handle this matter later. Don't worry, I won't cause you any trouble."
The lady was still troubled, looking down, hesitant.
From behind, a figure appeared, clad in white from head to toe, with a pair of tiny wings on his head.
"Alley, just a moment," he said calmly.
He looked over to the members of the Express, his expression gentle and compassionate.
"The Family cannot allow guests to enter a dream while bearing burdens."
They all looked at him and the gentle figure that appeared by his side, the frail lady that made the charts.
"Speak of the devil, look who's here! It's Sunday, the most handsome man in Penacony! Along with the singer renowned across the universe, Robin!"
Aventurine's flattery didn't fall on def ears, but Mark chuckled.
"Sorry, but the title of most handsome here is mine ever since I arrived. Sorry, Sunday, but you got competition," chuckled Mark, going over for a handshake, trying to act as loosely as possible now. It was good, at least on some level, to display multiple sides. His powers were hidden, and hopefully there was no leak from the Space Station. He was supposed to only be seen as the shady guy who might be a pain in your ass, not as the dude who could blow up the entire place in a suicide attack.
"Well, I wouldn't say that you're wrong," said Robin, looking over at Mark before he gently got a handshake from her too. He didn't know how to act when saluting women, and a kiss on the back of the palm was too much.
"Oh, you flatter me, Miss Robin," he smiled, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"Well, I'm most glad to have met you here, that's for sure. I'm looking forward to the festivities and to Miss Robin's wonderful singing voice."
She smiled, her gaze gentle and friendly, quite humble in itself. She was the one genuinely humble out of both Mark and Aventurine who had introduced themselves as such for the hell of it.
"I've kept you waiting, Mister Aventurine. This way, please, let us speak in private."
They both departed, leaving the Crew of the Astral Express together with Robin. She gave Mark a friendly pat on the shoulder and walked ahead, smiling at everyone.
"Astral Express guests, please come this way and rest your feet."
They walked together, and March was still awestruck at seeing Robin so casually in their proximity. Mark walked by Himeko's side, and she looked at him with a tiny frown. She nudged him in the side hard enough that he nearly spat out.
"Ouch! What was that for?" he whispered, trying to keep it low.
"Well, Mister 'Most Handsome in Penacony', you sure seem to be having fun talking to Miss Robin."
He was a bit dumbstruck, unsure of what the hell he had done wrong. All he did was offer a compliment and accept one himself, which was most likely offered out of politeness.
"I'll never understand women..." he mumbled, earning himself a slight glare from Himeko, who nudged him again.
"You're so dense," she whispered.
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