SleepyOwl's RPG Game Journal
Collin nods at the questions, seemingly pleased by them.
“Ms. Hitchens originally had a different designer working on her condo but we… freed her up to be available for another designer. She has however had some trouble finding a new one that fits her niche interests. We have
Ariyah inclined her head, an acknowledgement of Collin’s assertion of the current negotiation’s power dynamic. “That is true, Mr Hastings, I do not deny that the Prince is magnanimous in giving me this chance and not just driving me out of his city.”
She eyed
Collin looks more genuinely amused this time then he had before, seeming to enjoy this situation slightly, while also finding her somewhat entertaining. He rather lazily slid a folder across the table towards Ariyah before pulling back and beginning to talk.
“First off, my name is Collin Hastings,
Ariyah reined in the flash of annoyance at the man’s condescending tone. She wasn’t a big-wig by any stretch of the imagination, and she was okay with that. However, that does not mean she appreciated being talked down to. Ariyah pasted a polite, attentive expression
Collin smiled a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he nodded at the introduction.
“Yes Ms. Daniels, I was told to be expecting you. I figured this sort of place might appeal to you based off your reputation, and oh yes we did a little
Ariyah entered the dim studio, looking around curiously at the artwork hung up on the walls. It seemed someone had put some effort into the collection, and the Toreador was impressed. She made a note to come back during open hours to inspect some of
When Ariyah arrives to the studio she finds that there are some lights still on, though they are dimmed, and the door is still open. Inside there are several thin walls with paintings and artwork mounted onto them for viewing, for someone with a discerning eye who works
[Wake roll: Fail | BoL roll: Fail | Hunger: 1 —> 3]
Ariyah sat in one of the booth-like seats in the back of the crowded coffee franchise and took a sip of black liquid from her cup; a futile attempt at calming
Ariyah sat in her white Grönlid sofa and looked at the opened letter in front of her. (https://vtm.sleepyowl.ink/2020/07/letter-from-the-prince-2/)
It seemed that the Prince had read her letter after all, and had seen fit to give her a task.
Back in Melbourne, she