>>6311269That’s, uh… that’s a bummer, you answer in as neutral of a tone as you can muster.
“Not really. She was pretty worthless.” Shrugs the receptionist dismissively. “Guess it ran in the family. At least when they catch her they’ll use her for something useful. Probably.”
And, um… t-the Teksouls? Guuchri’s eyes give you a once-over as if trying to discern some innuendo.
“... They fall under the purview of Senior Trimbault Staff, Professor. You know that.”
Yea, you sputter in response, of course you do! Just, uh… just testing her! She passes! Darn, haha… which, erm.. Which Senior Staff was that again? Q-question two… eheheh…
“We merely refer to them as Senior Trimbault Staff. Security reasons.”
Right, you nod as you struggle to ignore a chorus of screams far above drowned out by the uncanny lovechild of a roar and a gurgle! Say, can she at least tell you where your pal <span class="mu-b">PROFESSOR LIS’TAT</span> is? You uh… you were gonna meet her for Sugar Tea later. Or something.
“Lis’tat… let me see…” The Chytree’s eyes glow brighter than usual for a moment before they fall back upon you. “She should be finishing up her lecture within the hour. I can direct her to your class once you’re both finished?”
Sure, you nod, that’d be great! Oh, and one last thing… Scanning the lobby one last time, you lean in close so as not to draw attention from the Teksouls still sweeping the gibs off the floor.
What’s the <span class="mu-s">BOSSMAN</span> up to today, hmm? The receptionist’s eyes flicker.
“... I beg your pardon?”
You knowwww, you chide with a faint laugh in your tone, the… the <span class="mu-s">BIG CHEESE! EL JEFE!</span>...
You’re being far too subtle, it seems. Guuchri watches you like a baby in a Calculus class. Clearing your throat, you straighten things out a bit:
<span class="mu-i">...The Archmage?</span>
Wait, no… <span class="mu-i">NOW</span> Guuchri’s watching you like a baby in a Calculus class… and this baby totally thought he was in Geology 101! As you immediately regret your question and Toppel prepares a spell–which you hope is aimed at the receptionist and not you–the glowing-eyed greeter erupts in polite, but unfiltered laughter!
“H-he’s…” She stammers, struggling to get out even the faintest syllable, “He’s <span class="mu-i">BUSY</span>, of course!”
R-right, you mutter as you struggle not to be hurt by her derisive laughter, but… but what’s he busy <span class="mu-i">with</span>, y’know?
Damn it, that just makes her laugh <span class="mu-s">HARDER!</span>
A few minutes of snickering later, the receptionist steadies herself against her desk, much to her fellow receptioneer’s relief. “Ah, I needed that…” A few clicks leave her unseen lips as she regains her professional composure. “Right, we really ought to get you going before your students arrive…”
>CONTD. 