C-CACT03 (Aug 26, 2001): Difference between revisions
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<span style="font-size: 20px; color:orange"><strong><center>⚠️BEWARE: THIS IS DECLASSIFIED INFORMATION. WARY EYES ONLY. ENTER AT OWN RISK.⚠️</center></strong></span><br> | <span style="font-size: 20px; color:orange"><strong><center>⚠️BEWARE: THIS IS DECLASSIFIED INFORMATION. WARY EYES ONLY. ENTER AT OWN RISK.⚠️</center></strong></span><br> | ||
<h1>Summary of Receipt</h1> | <h1>Summary of Receipt</h1> | ||
<span style="font-size: 20px"> | <span style="font-size: 20px">Marocchino talks to Naberius, or Mrs. Weyer. He mentions that, though he knows the Sandman, called Orpheus or Mrs. Ballard - he considers the Sandman’s activity bad for business and also extends an invitation to join the band for the upcoming nightclub, the Gossamer Ballast.</span> | ||
<h1>Transcript</h1> | <h1>Transcript</h1> | ||
<span>RECEIPT AS OF: 8/26/01<br> | <span>RECEIPT AS OF: 8/26/01<br> |
Latest revision as of 05:29, 16 September 2023
Puzzle
“Soon to be on drums, affectionately.”
See: C-SOS04 | 1 Word
Clue
Hover over the clues if you require!
Clue 1: Who, in C-SOS04, is on drums?
Clue 2: What is he referred to as by Mrs. Ligeia?
Answer and Explanation
Answer: Nabby
Explanation: Naberius is said to be playing on the drums for Asmodeus’ nightclub, and was referred to as ‘Nabby’ by Mrs. Ligeia.
Summary of Receipt
Marocchino talks to Naberius, or Mrs. Weyer. He mentions that, though he knows the Sandman, called Orpheus or Mrs. Ballard - he considers the Sandman’s activity bad for business and also extends an invitation to join the band for the upcoming nightclub, the Gossamer Ballast.
Transcript
RECEIPT AS OF: 8/26/01
BARISTA ON DUTY: MAROCCHINO
RECEIPT FILED AS: C-CACT-03
I spoke with Naberius again. He claims that he spoke with the Sandman, Morpheus, because it’s bad for business. I’m still not sure I trust him… but he still wants me to act as a consultant for “human affairs” in Mistress’ nightclubs. He also wants me to play in his band in Mistress’ new nightclub. I’ve been thinking about it more and more, and I feel like it’d be a good idea. Besides, I actually kind of like the demons I’ve met so far. Well, I have another month to decide before Mistress’ new club opens.
S.O.T.
Mrs. Weyer: Ah, Nikki, my dear, so good to see you back to the Soiree. Lexie was worried when you didn’t show last weekend. What can I get you?
Marocchino: Uh… Hm… Something a human can drink?
Mrs. Weyer: I know just the thing, a Corpse Reviver No. 2. Typically reserved for hangovers, but it works just as well for making them.
Marocchino: Thanks. How much?
Mrs. Weyer: Humans drink free. Within reason. Not that you’d have any Echoes on you, anyway. So, what kept you last week? I was certain you’d be snooping around again. Poor Lexie even got all dressed up.
Marocchino: Couldn’t sleep. Nigh—
Mrs. Weyer: —tmares. …Yes. There’s been a Sandman about lately, hasn’t there? I suppose that would take precedence over nightclubs.
Marocchino: Who is “Morpheus,” to you, Naberius.
Mrs. Weyer: What are you implying?
Marocchino: We caught you talking to Morpheus after it put my parents to sleep.
Mrs. Weyer: …ah. Well, yes. I know Morpheus—a rogue Sandman not terribly content with its confinement in the Crags of Paramnesia by Solo— Belphegor.
Marocchino: Belphegor put the Sandman there?
Mrs. Weyer: Put. Trapped. Imprisoned. Pick your poison, my dear.
Marocchino: Why?
Mrs. Weyer: Who the hell knows why she does ANYTHING? Mm… But, yes, I spoke with Morpheus. It’s bad for business. I mean, take yourself, for example. You weren’t here last weekend.
Marocchino: Aren’t I bad for business too? I don’t have any... what’re they called, Echoes?
Mrs. Weyer: Ah, but you could always earn some. Lexie said you were interested in being the bassist for the Ballast. You could also consult with me on human affairs. A win, win, as I see it. I’d pay you well, my dear, 13 Echoes per performance. Perhaps even a Memory or two—should you provide some especially useful human insights.
Marocchino: Uh—
Mrs. Weyer: My advice? Bite the bullet. We are running out of time, after all. Tick tock, tick tock. Tick. Tock. TICK. TOCK.
[Mrs. Weyer let out a deep sigh calming one of the three voices in his head]
Mrs. Weyer: Should things go well, we might have just a bit more time after all. So, no rush—just keep in mind the world is ending in… oh… less than 3 of your human years.