Somewhere Someplace

-??-

The receptionist counted and accounted, preparing the reward for the last three of all the seven quests the foreigner had listed under her name; three quests which had been turned in all at once…at the same exact time. Sacks upon sacks of collected things and bloodied ‘proofs’ had been brought in droves, though the receptionist’s peer handled their confirmation processing—which was to say…lower-receptionists whom her peer had so…enlisted…to ‘help’ in such endeavors.

Thirty-minutes afterwards, the collected items and bounty-proofs had been confirmed to match the quest-sheets’ recorded count and tally…albeit with a few discrepancies, thus allowing the reward of mostly gold coins to be freely dispensed.

Yet…the receptionist paused in her counting and accounting…her somewhat sour and indifferent eyes glanced at the foreigner who stood in front, whose half-masked face and obscured eyes remained…utterly fixated upon the quest-board; an attention locked in absolute.

There were faint fidgets in the foreigner’s standing posture…her legs, jittery…her finger, tapping away at her arm with ever-greater relentlessness. Although the foreigner was silent…it was clear that she was…very impatient—a tendency that only became more evident and severe…as time dragged forward.

The receptionist’s eyes continued to simply peer at the foreigner…whose once pristine tavern-waitress attire…was now so very…dirty, worn, and somewhat tattered—unbefitting of a lady, to be frank…let alone an adventurer.

Thoughts and cogitations entered mind…as she began to suddenly reflect somewhat…on how…different things had become after all these months. For the receptionist, this year…was not a fast one; so much had happened in her own life that…it was hard to really remember…when the foreigner was anything besides what her glaring eyes were seeing.

She sighed; “It’s been six-months since you joined…you know?” she remarked with a voice…neither cold nor warm; “I would congratulate you for reaching level ten so quickly…and that now qualify for an early skip-advancement to Steel”—her eyes’ stare shifted to a sharp glare—“but…not that you sincerely care about any of that…since I had said the same thing about an early advancement to Iron which you have still done nothing about…” she remarked further, somewhat passive-aggressive in voice.

The foreigner, however, simply turned her mask-obscured eyes and slowly stared, the coldness piercing through the lenses; “Are you…finished? If not…then just finish, for I need new quests” she said bluntly; “this is taking too much of the time…” she added…somewhat irritated yet still rather bland and flat affect. Her mask-obscured eyes quickly recontinued their fixated stare…as if that quest-board was an all-consuming force upon her very mind; in a way, it was, given the…too long of a short brief time since she was able to get any new quests.

The receptionist tsked somewhat in a purse, rolling her eyes; “You know…you do not have to wait on me…you could just go off and fetch your beloved quests while I am doing this” her voice blurted out passive-aggressively, her voice and eyes unamused.

The foreigner once again glared back at the receptionist; “Yet…you told to me to stay right here and wait for you to finish” she stated coldly.

The receptionist faintly ughed in a slight groan; “Yeah…that’s because a certain someone has been mistallying her collection count and inaccurately recording her bounty kills in comparison to collected proof items, requiring us to actually have to thoroughly process and confirm and not take her word for it anymore, lest I be thrown into a pile of bureaucratic eggy-shit!” she snappily blurted out in reply…rather lambastingly so, her breaths…elevated somewhat.

She calmed with a soft intaking breath and sighed; “So yes, and now you have to wait and be patient throughout the entire process, including reward distribution, because at any moment one of my fellows could pop-in to report a discrepancy and halt the process” she remarked with a cold stare.

Yet the foreigner simply tilted her head faintly, staring in kind; “So…which is it then? Do you want me to go to the board or stay here?” she asked coldly and bluntly; “decisiveness is important as well as the consistent clarity” she added.

The receptionist, however, stared her down, not having it all. “Thus says you of all such people…pfft” she muttered out in response, annoyed…and not just by the foreigner, but also by her own…apparent contradictions in words she had spoken out of impulse…and without much forward thought.

The foreigner continued to glare with indifference and flat affect; “Just stop wasting the time with this…talk and finish already; I need to do the new quests” she stated coldly…and impatiently.

Yet the receptionist only further paused in her counting accountings, her eyes simply staring at the foreigner…with such bewilderment…even though she had long become…used…to this emerging reality…of who this girl more accurately was…on the inside, all so seemingly.

She tsked; “Oh so speaks the one who comes in so many early mornings just to waste my time…with her in lack of diligence and always leaves a nasty tail-sucked taste in my mouth every time I have to speak with her! Pfft!” she snapped as more of her dozen months-long frustrations began to bleed out more.

The foreigner, however, could not bother to make any reply; she simply returned her fixated attention to the quest-board, a cold and bitter silence taking hold.

Indeed…the past several months had seen the foreigner’s relationship with the receptionist…destabilize…and to rather the growing degree…only becoming worse as the foreigner worsened in kind.

Silent moments passed, before the receptionist finally finished her task; she tied closed the now filled coin-pouch…along with a second one, tossing both onto the counter. “Here, done. Forty-five golds and fifty silvers…I had to shove a bunch into an extra pouch…since yours is too full…” she stated, passive-aggressively… “…also…sorry for the wait…” she added somewhat quietly…voice now more calm and perhaps…slightly somber and mellow.

“Good.” the foreigner stated sharply and coldly as she grabbed the pouches…and hastily shoved them into her backpack before, and without any delay, as if she were…an obsessed canine let loose from her leash, she made way straight to that quest-board, inspecting as she ripped off quest after quest…perhaps without even reading them thoroughly.

The receptionist sighed as she peeringly stared…truly, what a sight to behold…indeed; her eyes…only became more saddened as her mind…continued to think of the past half-year in retrospect.

Twenty to thirty seconds passed…before the foreigner came returning in haste, toss-sliding onto the counter…ten quest-sheets. Her finger tapped and tapped away…at the quest-sheets; “Stamp.” she demanded flatly and strictly, even more jittery in her static posture; “just stamp” she reiterated, impatient, cold, and flat affect.

Yet…all the receptionist could do was stare ever-more; truly…what a sight to behold; truly…she had not any the idea whatsoever…that…this was how this once charming enrollee whom she had personally admitted…would turn out.

The foreigner’s tapping only became more impatient and irritated as the lack of any stamping persisted, her legs faintly jittering even more despite…still being so very flat in posture and affect. As if her body did not even know…what it was feeling, despite responding.

Indeed, the foreigner used to be so static…so reserved and contained…enigmatic in somewhat, thus such…deviations…were rather noticeable to perceptive eyes. It was clear…and in fact had been very clear…that this was beyond simple…impatience…no, no…not at all such.

“Why are you being so slow? Just stamp them; it is not difficult or confusing; it is simple” the foreigner stated and remarked, her finger tapping ever-more.

Yet the receptionist stare persisted…reflecting further in mind; indeed…this was not the first time in her career that she had seen…such an affair; it was rare…but not rare enough.

She sighed yet again, her posturing straightening to one more strict and authoritative; “No.” she stated, sternly, and with fixed eye contact.

The foreigner…tilted her head…freezing in place…perplexed; « Qui…quid? Quid diçhes modo? » “—what is this to mean? ‘No’? But you always do the stamping. That is the job for you. So stamp. Do not make this difficult, I ask” she stated coldly…almost threateningly so.

The receptionist, however, sighed yet again…somberly as she pinched her forehead; “Gods’ sacred, Nilia…what happened to you? For month after month after month…I have had to put up with so much…and you have only become worse! You used to be so…sweet and charming but now you are just…so…sour and awful to talk to!” thus she began to remark with blunt frustration.

“…all you do is storm in here and turn in all your quests at once, which are no longer even completed diligently, and stare at that board; I mean…we hardly even talk anymore! And whenever we do it is nothing ever pleasant” she remarked further; “Everything has been ‘quest, quest, quest, I need a quest, please give me ‘the’ quest’…Gods’ sacred, Nilia, have you even been doing anything outside of quests?? Anything at all! Even adventurers have actual lives beyond that, you know?” she remarked and asked…rather ventingly so.

The foreigner, however, unamused…simply stared coldly and blankly…tilting her head; “…it has been many months, no? I do not know what you speak of, but why are you now talking of this if it has been so bad for these months?” she inquired bluntly and flatly, yet did not even provide any room for response; “It is pointless and irrelevant to you; so, just…stamp the papers already. I am not asking.” she stated bluntly, strictly, and indeed…more threateningly.

Yet the receptionist stared her down, utterly unamused and indifferent, standing her ground firmly and with authority; “And I am not stamping. I had briefed you thoroughly, Nilia, so you should know I, as a main receptionist, reserve every right to deny any quests or services to Guild members for any valid reason, and I am now using it” she replied bluntly and with strict voice.

« … » the foreigner remained frozen stiff, her finger-tapping pausing momentarily…only to recontinue, albeit…fainter; “Just stamp…it…I ask…for grace” she said somewhat…softly…her voice flat and empty yet…with sprinkles of faint desperate urgency; “I need them stamped…I need to do these quests; simple…” she added.

The receptionist…sighed for the nth time this day; “Nilia…no; I have been in this profession long enough to know when I see an adventurer…becoming…obsessed…It has happened before plenty of times” she replied; “I mean, just look at you…look at your dress, it is all dirty, torn and…just…just look at how exposed your waist and thighs are! You have not invested any of your pay in proper equipment and armor…I do not even think that you even care about the pay at all anymore” she reiterated and remarked…her emotions…solemn, honest, and sincere.

“Nilia…you stare at that board as if you were a man obsessed with liquor and whores and is unable to live without them. It’s the only thing on your mind, isn’t it? Quests and that quest-board…that’s all you think about, right? Do not even bother lying to me, it is so obvious…that you are obsessed” she said further.

The foreigner…simmered down and eased her stance…her mask-obscured eyes simply…evading away, staring down at the edge of the main counter. Silence was her response…as many strange feelings…were suddenly emerging deep down within, all incomprehensible even if vaguely felt.

The receptionist, for the double nth time, sighed…rubbing her own eyes and face somewhat, her emotions starting to…perhaps bleed out more than she wanted them to. “Seriously…you haven’t even come here at any hours when others are present…I doubt any of your fellows even know who are you or that they even have a new Guild member…despite being more than a half-year; they haven’t even seen you yet…” she remarked further.

The receptionist leaned down and against the main counter…her resting her cheek on one hand as now her own fingers…began tapping away…

Silence took hold and persisted…until the receptionist exhaled a slight conclusive breath; “So here’s the deal” thus she began to say firmly, “I will approve these quests for you…but only if you come back here…later today when the sun is center-high and when others are present…and only with a partner or as a party; not alone, is that held in mind?”

The foreigner continued to evasively stare down…stationary and static; “…that is a very…bad idea…” she replied with hollow breaths.

“Yeah, and so is stamping all ten of these quests for you when are clearly becoming an obsessive eater of them and cannot even stand still without them!” the receptionist replied bluntly and firmly, her voice raising somewhat.

The receptionist’s own finger-tapping intensified slightly as her mind became elevated yet again; her breaths sighed yet again as she turned silent…thinking and thinking with flaring thoughts, finding words to speak, while foreigner remained silent in kind.

“Listen, Nilia…” thus she broke the silence, “this profession takes its toll on people…especially these days when quests are getting more scarce, more poorly…informed, and…questionably classified and ranked; all of these months have shown to me that you are…a very…different person from whom I thought you were when you had first walked in…” thus she remarked; “I mean, most Coppers, let alone lady Coppers, do not usually go around…mass-butchering glow-golems and glow-spiders without any problem…never mind while alone”

“So, you are clearly…a dangerous lady…more dangerous than I ever thought before, with clear and demonstrated fighting expertise that preceded your joining…but I have seen enough adventurer-faces from all origins and kinds…to know when I see someone who has been through…an inferno and out; after all, most young ladies, especially Far Westerners, are not supposed to be…dangerous fighters before joining the Guild”.

She sighed for the triple nth time; “…I am rambling—ahem—listen: all I am trying to reach towards…is—and this has been documented time and time again throughout the Guild’s history—but adventuring alone…takes a far greater toll than with a partner or party…even temporary, even with strangers…this has been a long demonstrated pattern…those who become obsessed with quests…are almost always…ones who go at it alone…either from the start or because they lost their party” she remarked; “not all aloners, but many enough to see a trend…so just having one extra person makes all the difference” she added.

The receptionist went silent again…her finger-tapping slowing down…as she continued…to contemplate and think.

The foreigner remained silent in kind, staring down, not at all naive to the sincere and solemn affect in the receptionist’s voice. Frustrated, annoyed, worried, and sad…so much had bottled up the past several months…never mind all of the accumulated stress from her general job and own problems in the private sphere.

The receptionist sighed; “To be honest with you, Nilia, I already have enough…sour problems to deal with, you know? I am a young married lady with a husband who…has become…very disaffected with me…so…I would prefer to have that sweet and charming Nilia come in every morning again…instead of this sour and bitter Nilia I’ve had to deal with and who has been leaving a poor…rotten taste in my mouth” she remarked bluntly, but…openly and honestly; “so…yeah, it truly could make all of the difference…and not just for you” she added, conclusively.

« … » the foreigner’s silence persisted, as did her evasive eyes. So many strange and alien feelings flowed deeply within; she felt so very strange…she had neither the words nor frameworks to define or describe it even if there was a familiarity…only that…she felt strange hearing such comments and such solemnly genuine words spoken in such a specific way by such a specific voice from such a specific person…with whom she had interacted…frequently enough.

The foreigner…was so detached from her own self…yet not exactly…aloof and naive completely; she knew…deep down within…when her mind was unraveling; she knew when the shadow deep within…was flooding and leaking out. She was ancienter than ancient, this was not the first time such affairs had happened, nor would it be the last… but if the denizens were noticing it…then that could be a problem…no…it had been a problem; what had happened the night before…what she…had almost done…was a clear indicator of it.

The foreigner sighed; “Alrighly…fine…” she began to say as her mask-obscured eyes finally looked at the receptionist who stared back with strict…yet also…clearly worried eyes; “I will…wait until…later this day and return at the time which you instruct to see if I may find…the partner or the party…” she acquiesced.

The receptionist’s strict face…let loose a faintly glimmery smile, her stern stance and eyes loosening and relaxing somewhat; “Good, good…goodly heard…I will hold your word to it…then” she replied; “that is that, then…so return when the sun is center-high…I will…hold onto these until then” she reiterated; “…and…if you cannot find any today, then…I will stamp at least one…just for you to do in the meantime…but I do want you to find a fellow to work with…so, deal?”

“…it is understood…thus, it is the deal” the foreigner replied before gently stepping back…though staring at the quests on the counter…unable to truly let them go from her eyes and mind; yet, nevertheless, after much deliberation, she turned around…and did just that; she began to make way to depart and return…later this day.

However, she abruptly paused and halted; not turning back around, simply standing still. Yet again…strange feelings…different…weirder and more alien…strange things…strange…incomprehensible urges and desires…to speak and say…words she normally never cared to say…about things she hardly ever wanted to acknowledge and think about…yet…understood and knew…deep down within, nevertheless.

A fundamental…impulse…stemming from primordial instincts of her mind and being; to return…honesty and solemn sincerity…with equal kind…to a person with whom she had been interacting …quite often…these past few many months.

“…hear me” thus the foreigner began to speak, “I think…still…that this is a very bad idea and that it may not be the way it wanted to be so…but I will…still follow the way as you want” she said, her voice flat affect…yet not empty; “but…keep as the whisper in mind that I…my head…it is in the strange place…and that I do not truly understand…what it is that is happening to me, only that it is happening…and that I do not trust myself…and neither should you trust me; even to me, I am not predictable…” thus she remarked with hollow yet…honest and sincere voice, one she hardly…ever did.

Without any further delay or pause, the foreigner departed away, exiting the hall back out into the city and world beyond…leaving the receptionist as was…without any the means to reply…only stare and contemplate the words spoken…though, not for long…for indeed, she had rather the work…needing to be done.

Oh, trust me, trooper, you are so very predicable…

At least, to watchful eyes from that era of old…like his and hers and mine in kind.