Teaser 1: Ryuki's office
Winter holidays' teaser for Mile Higher Club--if you're playing a character in the game you won't know of the events in this teaser, but you may discover them later.
Ryuki leaned back into his desk chair, staring at the shelf on the wall. He'd just shown out another client, one that had gone well all things considered. "All things" including an early morning encounter with the biggest demon he'd ever heard in a place he had so far believed was safely demon-free, then having a heated argument with an angel that left him with the futile desire to choke the life out of said angel. He was so lucky to have Scott working for the family. Not only did he get him out of jams like that one, but he could assure SFPD that the Wataris were in fact upstanding citizens, well, most of the time. It was (forgive the cliche, he thought) a win-win situation.
Like Nicole downstairs, another person they were lucky to have with them. When the angels showed up she wasn't impressed--of course, she hadn't known they were angels. Still, Gerhard could be intimidating, and she'd simply explained that the younger Mr. Watari had only his 4:30 slot open today. She stonewalled Interpol. She was amazing. He was going to offer her tuition benefits again, even though that would get prohibitively expensive if word got around. She was worth that, easy.
God he could use a drink. Tired and wound up, a bad combination. He looked around the office, really seeing it for a change. The bookshelf, mostly financial books but one volume of John Dee to be true to himself. The Bougeureau painting that he'd used to replace the generic thing the lease agent had put in there. The glass desk, the leather chair, the Chinese rug...comforts all. A wise old Indian once said that having attachments is what caused misery--more to the point the fear of losing them. If that was the case he should be one seriously miserable man. It wasn't the stuff in the office, or the suites, or even the little talismans he kept in his suitcase. No, he was attached to the epic stuff--people, family, angels, Essence, power. The little comfort items were nothing next to that; he could cast those off at will.
So why didn't he? Business image, sure, but then why keep the Dee? He stood up and walked to the shelf, limbs complaining of an interrupted sleep. He ran his finger along the binding and it felt good, not the tingle of magic but the warmth of something familiar in hand. I am attached to this, he thought. Damned if I do...
He remembered the angel's words, "it's unpleasant - to say the least - to know that somebody didn't make it to Heaven" and the discussion with Scott about it on the way to the gym, talking sense. What did they want now? He was tired and tense (and, said an inner voice, a crappy Buddhist). He let go of the book and reached behind it for the sake. He filled the smaller glass with just enough to take the edge off, realizing they'd be here soon and he'd need his wits..