Tuesday, 24th August:
The morning light filtered through the curtains, gently painting the room with a soft glow. Lucy, her eyes still weighed down by the remnants of sleep, moved with a languid grace. Her steps, though deliberate, betrayed the telltale signs of someone who preferred the solace of night.
In the kitchen, she embarked on a ritualistic dance with her coffee. The measured motions seemed to echo the rhythm of her thoughts, each movement a silent reflection of her contemplation. As the rich aroma of brewing coffee wafted through the air, she laid the cups on the table with a quiet precision.
Seated, she stared ahead, lost in the quietude of the morning. Her gaze lingered on an invisible horizon, a world of thoughts and musings that played out in the space before her. To hasten the cooling of her brew, she bent closer, a gentle breath dancing over the surface like a whispering breeze.
The first cup met her lips, its warmth offering solace to her waking soul. In a swift motion, she drained it, savoring the bittersweet taste that brought her further into the realm of wakefulness. With that complete, she turned her attention towards the bathroom, determined to face the day ahead with renewed vigor.
Lucy's reflection stared back at her from the mirror, her attire meticulously chosen for the day ahead. She weighed the options, considering the statement her all-black ensemble might make. After a moment's contemplation, she opted for the more understated but equally elegant brown attire. It bore the hallmark of a woman who knew herself well, radiating a quiet confidence.
Her steps carried her back to the kitchen, where the aroma of her brewing coffee lingered like an old friend. She stood at the threshold of a decision, debating whether to prepare a meal or venture out to a local eatery. In the end, the promise of a quick bite won out, and she gulped down her second cup and slipped out the door.
The restaurant greeted her with the hum of activity, a bustling symphony of clinking dishes and murmured conversations. Yet, as she surveyed the crowd, a flicker of doubt stirred within her. The prospect of a lengthy wait for her meal dimmed her enthusiasm. With a resigned sigh, she turned on her heel, leaving the lively eatery behind.
Her voice, tinged with a wry humor, punctuated the quiet streets. "I suppose I'm not eating until after work," she mused to herself, a hint of determination settling in her eyes.
The brisk wind nipped at Lucy's skin, an unexpected chill for the fading days of August. It prompted a slight shiver as she trod onwards to Rasvel Street. Her steps were purposeful, each one carrying her closer to her destination. Time seemed to stretch, amplifying the cold's bite, but she persevered.
Upon reaching the street, she was met with an unexpected sight. Rather than the residential houses she anticipated, it was an enclave of businesses, an oddity in the neighborhood. Her gaze swept across the facades until it landed on a building marked with the elusive number 4. A stairwell beckoned her up, and she ascended with resolve.
"That's it," she affirmed, satisfaction lacing her voice.
Her knuckles rapped against the door, the echoes reverberating through the corridor. Moments later, it swung open to reveal a striking young woman. A figure of elegance, she commanded attention with her form-fitting attire, vibrant red curls, and light green eyes.
"Hello, you must be Lucy, right? Come in," she greeted with a warm smile, her voice carrying a gentle lilt of hospitality.
The interior gleamed with a pristine elegance, the walls a luminous white that bathed the room in natural light. A few low, inviting chairs nestled against the left wall, their plush cushions a stark contrast to the crisp surroundings. Lush green plants added a touch of life to the space, their leaves stretching towards the ceiling.
A magnificent ebony wood desk stood as the focal point, its surface meticulously arranged with various items. It exuded an air of professionalism and refinement, perfectly complementing the overall aesthetic. In the distance, three doors beckoned, each leading to a different room within the building.
Stepping further inside, Lucy felt the warmth envelop her, a comforting embrace after the chill outdoors. Her fingers gradually regained their vitality, tingling with the returning sensation of heat. A voice floated towards her.
"My name is Elivia. I work here as a receptionist," the lady informed her, her tone carrying a sense of genuine welcome.
Lucy reciprocated with a warm smile, genuine in her response. "Nice to meet you, Elivia."
Elivia's explanations were delivered with a gentle assurance, her gestures emphasizing each point she made. She directed Lucy's attention to the nearest door, cautioning about its use.
"This door leads to the Leader's room. Only enter in emergencies, and make sure not to disturb him," Elivia advised, her tone conveying a sense of gravity.
Then, she turned towards the doors behind the receptionist's desk, detailing their purposes. "This left one is your haven for meals and relaxation during breaks. I always have food brought in, so just let me know your preferences and I'll arrange it. No need to worry about payment."
Leading Lucy towards the other door, Elivia swung it open, unveiling a slightly spacious hallway. Her words flowed as they strolled.
"Each member has their own designated space for research and study. Over here is the meeting room where they gather for planning sessions. And this, my dear, is your sanctuary. Feel free to open it and explore," she encouraged, her voice tinged with warmth.
Elivia's tour was a thoughtful introduction to the inner workings of this place, offering Lucy a sense of familiarity and belonging from the very start.
Lucy turned the brass handle of the sanctuary room's door, revealing a sight that elicited a genteel gasp. Her study and research chamber exuded an air of impeccable order. A substantial leather chair stood near the window, allowing the gentle rays of daylight to grace the room. On a polished mahogany table, a neat stack of parchment lay adjacent to an inkwell and a quill adorned with delicate feathers. An ornate typewriter rested in one corner, its presence imbuing the room with a touch of vintage charm.
Elivia observed Lucy's response with a contented smile. "The room received its tidying only an hour prior," she conveyed.
Lucy's gaze shifted from the room to Elivia, gratitude softening her countenance. "I extend my heartfelt thanks. The attention to detail is truly appreciated. Might I have the pleasure of meeting the other members? At present, I find myself without specific tasks to occupy my time."
Elivia nodded with an air of warm understanding. "Certainly, I shall arrange for you to make their acquaintance. Most likely, you'll find them in the common area. Allow me to escort you."
With Elivia as her guide, they proceeded through the well-lit office, the warm glow of gas lamps illuminating the way. They arrived at a chamber adjacent to the receptionist desk, the door slightly ajar, affording a modest view of members engaged in affable discourse.
"This is where they convene informally. Feel free to step inside," Elivia encouraged, her voice suffused with a welcoming Victorian grace.
Lucy, her heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and anticipation, stepped into the common area. There, seated around the sturdy wooden table and on the plush couch, were the four members she had glimpsed earlier. They engaged in animated conversation, awaiting the arrival of their leader.
With a polite greeting, Lucy introduced herself. "Good morning. My name is Lucy Hall. I'm new here."
Their collective attention shifted to her, two of them captivated by her presence. Each extended a warm welcome, inviting her to join them.
Robert Dawn, a young man exuding confidence, revealed his affiliation as a Pact 2 with the God of Sun. "Nice to meet you," he declared, his voice steady and amiable.
Luke Bertwon, displaying the seasoned wisdom of his years, maintained a professional air. He introduced himself, offering his name without divulging his pact deity.
Lucy turned her gaze to the two female members who regarded her with interest. Martha Omen, donned in a well-fitted gray suit adorned with golden accents, emanated an air of purpose. Her affiliation with the God of Death added an intriguing layer to the group's dynamics.
As introductions continued, Lucy's expectations were defied. Martha's revelation challenged her preconceived notions. It became evident that the Sunners' affiliations were as diverse as their members.
Another member, Lucy Stone, radiated youthful energy. Her voluminous blonde hair framed a face lit with a bright smile. "We share a name," she pointed out, her tone light-hearted and welcoming.
In this room, Lucy sensed a convergence of diverse backgrounds and beliefs, bound by a shared purpose. It was a promising start to her new journey among the Sunners.
Alright, time to play the rat. But it's for a greater good, I'd help common people and at the same time serve 'Her'.