Heroes of legend. Rulers of Empire. Songs to outlast them all. How do such things come to pass? Raw talent? Dedicated practice, day in and day out? Closed eyes, frantic prayers, and dumb luck?

Darling. Please. You just have to know the right people.

For instance: Vasilia, hand of the Captain, knew the Coherent were setting up to film in a particularly overgrown wing of the Plousios. She also knew the location of the five closest workshops to their set, and which one of the five could most easily admit someone with a more tentacle-based form of locomotion. Which is how Ramses, future star of [i]Prion Paula VS the Garden of Terror![/i], came to know that, why, yes, the Captain had [i]plenty[/i] of time with which to review some character designs for his film counterpart.

So it was that Captain Dolce found himself seated in the private green room (walls fully engulfed in green hanging cloth so you [i]knew[/i] it was official) of Ramses herself. Sharing a wheelchair with his wife, perched snug on her lap, far away from the office, bridge, and infirmary. For the first time in a week, the document in his hands weighs far less than a casualty report.

“Hrm.” Dolce carefully turns the sketch - one of dozens - a quarter-turn. Then another. “There was a lot going on, so it’s possible I missed it…” He squints at the dazzling figure staring back from the page. “...but I was pretty sure I only ever had the two legs?”

“The cape is a rather dashing look, you have to admit.” Vasilia offers, peeking over his shoulder.