SOL02
RECEIPT AS OF: 9/13/01
BARISTA ON DUTY: MAROCCHINO
RECEIPT FILED AS: SOL-02
I hope Nabby isn’t too upset I didn’t show up for rehearsal. We were supposed to meet today. Ugh. Well, he can’t get too mad for his Mistress’ mistakes, can he? Plus, like, if we don’t fix this stupid Spire, whatever, I’m sure there won’t be a new nightclub for us to perform at anyway. This doesn’t seem like something Mistress would do intentionally. Flooding her Plane, that is. The tags are totally something she’d do. She really wants to get her nightclub thing going and not just for the Necropolis but all the Planes.
Oh, yeah, also, I was stopped by some weirdo in a cloak. They were talking about the Labyrinth and secrets and blah, blah, blah. I think it’s the same weirdo Romano saw a few hours ago. They had a very distinct smell, not that I was trying to sniff them or anything. But it was… mm… cedarwood, labdanum, and… incense? Something kind of heavy and smokey but still sort of sweet. The only reason I noticed it was because nothing here really seems to smell like much of anything. Even us. Then again, I guess we are in the process of dying.
At least we don’t smell rotten or anything, just… sort of dry?—like stale earth or ancient bones. Except for Galao, of course, she still smells like coffee, cream, and summertime. Though it does make me wonder… if everyone here smells like basically nothing except for Galao and this mysterious Labyrinth weirdo… who the hell is the Labyrinth weirdo? I doubt they’re a prince or whatever, but they must be someone important to not just smell like every other stiff here. I guess keep your eyes and noses open for them.