Delivering Letters (Closed)

”My name is Reyna H. Basterbine,” Reyna stated, somewhat self-evidently. The burly looking bouncer before her blinked a second and checked the clipboard in his hands for any mention of her first or last name. When he saw none of them, he looked back up at her blankly, as if to say he hadn’t found anything. Reyna rubbed her temples in frustration, somewhat bothered by the fact that the one time she needed to be recognized, nobody recognized her. ”I was in that Chanelle spot last week. Eco-Friendly Bio-Princess of the Jungle?”

"Are you a dumbass or do you really not remember me?"

Suddenly, the bouncer’s eyes lit up. He pulled the velvet rope behind him aside and ushered her in. Maybe he hadn’t even recognized her, she thought. Maybe he just assumed she was telling the truth because she was somewhat attractive and happened to have a very commanding attitude. That honestly wouldn’t have shocked her at all.

She looked up from the crimson-colored carpet and appraised the backstage area with a little bit of apprehension. The whole place felt icky, like somebody’d dropped a lollipop and then rolled it all over the carpet and the walls. She felt like she was standing in literal filth. Still, she persevered with a gentle cough, advancing through the thin crowd until she found a door at the opposite end of the room.

A single, familiar name was emblazoned in gold letters across the center.


Reyna knocked twice and pushed on inside.

Rakish was ready for her, as he said he’d be, and nodded in her direction. His dressing room was rather elaborate and a lot nicer than the one she remembered. She admired the murals on the left wall and the artwork over the couch to her left before finally striding across the room to hand Rakish the letter he’d needed. According to him, it was some missive from his family, detailing when he would be allowed to utilize the passport he’d received a few days ago.

”What kind of magic did you say you did again?” Reyna asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t,” Rakish replied, his stony eyes still glued to the letter.

Rakish best resembled a caramel colored rock, with wild black hair and a face that screamed warrior. He bore no scars, but every facet of his being carried an unimaginable weight that even Reyna could observe from a distance.

”I could watch your show to find out,” she suggested. ”That’d be the easiest way to get my answer.”

“That’s why you would not dare do it,” he said, leveling his now curious gaze on her. “You’re not a fan of easy answers.”

”You’re not a fan of straight ones.”

“You said you like mysteries,” he admitted. “Isn’t this a fair one? Discovering my magic?”

Reyna wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at Rakish as she sunk back into the couch across the room, her arms crossed over her chest in childish defiance.

”Yeah, but that’s different. I like great mysteries. Mysteries that’re important. This is just cruel and unusual. I thought we were friends, Rakish,” he said.

“We’re going to talk in circles if we keep going down this road -- did you have trouble getting in? Did the bouncer grant you entry?”

Reyna sniffed, once, in mock offense.

”I don’t think he recognized me, if that’s what you mean. I’m pretty sure he just let me in because I’m aggressive and loud.”

Rakish nodded and turned back to his mirror, as if he’d expected an answer like that. In truth, he sort’ve had. Reggie, the bouncer, was a fan of loudmouthed women. Reyna was definitely loud, and considering how determined she was, Rakish wouldn’t have doubted it even if she’d told him that Reggie’d only let her in because he was unconscious on the floor outside.

He would’ve normally assumed that he needed to hire a better bouncer, but he knew better. Reyna was not a weak willed plebiscite. She was a strong mage with a knack for getting what she wanted. In some ways, it was admirable. In other ways, it was annoying -- like when she wanted his beer, for instance. If he turned around for even a second, it would be gone and he’d be left with a glass bottom full of foam.

“The important thing is that you got inside. This letter was important to me.”

”What’s it say?”

“That,” he said, rising from his chair, “is a story for a different day. It’s time for me to go on.”