Thaum: Lower District
Thaumâs lower district was, for lack of a better description, idyllic. The area itself, despite possessing the same quality of peace apparent everywhere else in the town, was lacking the rough and simple aesthetic plan many other houses were made with; the tightly-packed, stone hewn residential structures were replaced with two- or three-storey buildings made of wood and constructed in different shapes from the flat square homes nearby. However, a certain air of drowsiness hung thick over this quarter and none walked in the streets, which was a wonder seeing that Thaum was a small town fueled by agriculture and small businesses, and its citizens considered dawn as the ideal time to start working.
So why then, was this certain place so empty?
Perhaps the answer lies in the surroundings. If you turned around and glanced upwards, you would have stared straight at a bowed two-storey complex. It was neat and well-kept, but there was something about it⊠The façade wasnât menacing, no⊠Just plain shady. Quote a certain young lady weâll meet in a few moments: âItâs dark, Lute, which is perfect for doing dark deeds.â A neon sign void of any light (turned off. I mean, whoâd even waste a neon sign in broad daylight, duh) read the words âThe Red Parasolâ, cue the stenciled silhouette of the upper half of a woman with a (surprise, surprise) parasol. You see, this part of Thaum, the âentertainment districtâ, is largely only active during night; otherwise its many fair denizens are just content to spend hours sleeping to regain their strength, courage, and overall temperament to keep up with the many idiots whom they have to treat like princes, and otherwise are simply loathe to do anything else unlessâŠ
The Red Parasol: Interior
âBREAKFAST! Oh, good morning to you too, Ogre! Yes, itâs morning. What a great day! Have you seen the sunflowers?â A peal of delighted laughter, and the annoyingly cheerful voice continued, âYou should! Theyâre so pretty! Say youâll do-â
âGah kid, shaddap or Iâll wring yer scrawny neck!â Looks like Mr. Sunshine chose the wrong person to wake up.
â- Oh, you will? Okay! Everyone! Wake up, wake up, I brought food!â Lute burst in The Red Parasol and, in his first ten seconds, managed to trip over the âbouncerâ (Ogre, as he was sleeping near the door) and ruin the guyâs day. He was being irritatingly chirpy so early and heaven knows how that will work in a house full of sleep-deprived working girls.
In any case, most of the ladies went downstairs, all in various state of undress. Not just one even arrived in her underwear, which made Lute blush down to his hair roots despite being given the strip treatment since Day 1 as The Red Parasolâs meal courier, which was, like, near a year already. Robin Seraphie dâal Cazarosta, or Miz Robin to you, ya dirty all dog, and to everyone else lucky enough to breathe air in her presence, drearily stomped down the steps before dropping like a dead fly on a nearby chair with her long legs splayed wide apart. âLong night?â Lute asked cheerfully as he set about to preparing the table; his task and his task alone in this room full of zombies. She turned her head and smiled provocatively, âYou mean long-â
âRobby, itâs Lutey-patootie weâre talking to here. Besides, itâs, like, 10 AM,â Someone thankfully interceded before Robin had the chance to unwittingly tear more pieces of Luteâs innocence to the ground.
âI know, Lil. Oh, Iâm so tirrreed. Gods,â She uttered the last word with a little more venom than intended seeing that the white-haired male still had that sickly sweet simper on. âLute, sweetheart, stop smiling. The fuck you so happy at this hour? What, you got laid or- Oh, who am I kidding, youâre probs fangirling about seeing twin bananas or malformed apples. Yep, never mind.â
Once the dining table was set and the meals were spread accordingly, the corpses littered around the receiving room were reanimated and the girls milled around to get their breakfast. Lute took the opportunity to run for Robin, and soon as she raised her head to acknowledge him did his gleeful façade splinter in half.
âHow do I look, ah, cool?â
Robin thought she misunderstood him, so she put down her loaf of bread and stared up at Lute until he took the memo and knelt down, their faces a comfortable distance from each other. âYah, what?â She crossed her legs then pursed her lips. Yep, she definitely misheard shit.
Lute shifted uncomfortably, and she recognized that deepening blush all too well. âOh, sweetheart. Really? Again? Wow, they must think youâre, well, the face of Thaum. Lute Aiseirigh, most adorkable albino this side of the boonies. Which is good!â The woman hurriedly added before flicking her cropped ebony curls away from her cheeks. Lute didnât seem that convinced by her words, so Robin tried dealing from a new angle. âAw hun, itâs no big deal, câmere- Wait, whereâs Delilah? She should be here helping me deal with your stage fright.â
âSheâs still asleep,â The man muttered under his breath before sighing, and Robin just had to smile; Lute was pretending to be cheerful (and annoyingly so) because he was nervous about something that was going to happen in a few moments/minutes/hours, and if she had to guess, itâs because he has to greet new Guilders again.
Like she said, he might be the new face of Thaum⊠Or maybe, just maybe, everybody else was too busy doing the major jobs that Lute got dumped in the Welcoming Committee.
Robin uncrossed her legs then tugged her dress downwards discreetly. âAll right, sweetie, listen and listen well. This is a crash course for coolness.â Wait did Lute just whip out a notepad? Yes he did! âLike, Coolness 101. OK, letâs startâŠâ
âThat fancy restaurant placeâ
âHoly macaroni cheese on bologne,â Delilah muttered while Lute remained standing outside the meeting venue, his jaw wide open in awe- and horror. Well actually, it was 80% horror and 20% awe. Surely they werenât going to meet here of all places? He tugged at his collar, smoothed his shirt and then slicked back his hair. The fluffy white mop bounced up soon as his palm left the strands. Just great. He took a step forward and then skittered away as if recoiling from a red-hot iron. Only rich people go here; last time he checked they were living below the poverty line!? What if it was all a mistake!? Darn it, he really shouldâve listened to instructions better! He canât just waltz in there, you know, because what if they werenât there!? Heâd be interrupting people eating in peace and and and-
Delilah finally screeched, âFucken hell, SHADDAP and just get your arse inside the goddamn resto!â
So yes, Lute managed to trudge inside the elegant venue and instantly felt his soul being flayed by the grandiosity. His eyes rested on the chandelier hanging above the receiving room, calculating how many potatoes he could buy if the owner of this place decided to be generous and let him take it. âA hell lot of potatoes,â Delilah responded grimly. In any case, potato bulk buying plans aside, he was fortunately spotted by one of the waiters and was ushered to where the Pride and Dr. D were, which he couldâve spotted easily from the onset if he wasnât so nervous. Lute stopped the guy from escorting him any further and hid behind the nearest aquarium.
âOh gods. Hyperventilating. Need air. I can do this,â Lute thought then nodded, a spark of determination glimmering in his eyes. Without further ado he stood up, walked around the corner of the aquarium and, following Robinâs How-To-Be-Cool 101, leaned against the glass.
âHey every-,â He started, but the same waiter who ushered him inside tapped him on the shoulder and told him that he shouldnât lean against the aquarium. âO-oh, sorry!â Lute immediately slid his elbow away from the surface (and lost his balance, almost tripping if he hadn't grabbed on to the waiter and used him as a pedestal to cling on COOL LEVEL -100 POINTS YO). He grimaced, turned red, and glanced at the âfish cageâ to (pretend to) wipe some smudges off the glass, and this was when he saw the sad Mr. Blobfish.
âAwwww, whatâs wrong!? Iâm sorry did I make you sad!? Did I elbow you in the face? Câmon, smile!â Lute gasped in horror and bent down, pressing his face against the aquarium to stare at the pink creature. "I think I ruined his day, Del- Oh, are you a guy? Or a girl? It's pretty hard to tell."
Inside his mind, Delilah was hitting her face repeatedly. âStop looking at the goddamned blob and greet the people!â She wailed and swerved around to look at everyone, just to see how they were reacting to this goddamned fool she had for a friend. As the familiarâs gaze swept across the unfamiliar faces, one particularly important visage made her stop. âWait, was thatâŠ!? Lute, Lute, stop bending over and look whoâs here!!!â She screamed gleefully, and all at once music filled the Prideâs dining space.
Not just any music either, but a wedding march.
âDelilah! Stop!â Lute straightened up and spluttered as his eyes went from normal size to twice the average ping pong ball. If anything, the music got even louder, now with added trumpet fanfare.