Schön W. Freund

Schön had been busy since parting with Princess Iphigenia, sifting the Nexus for an evening of experiences worthy of the lady. Looking himself over in the mirror, straightening his white tie, he has to admit that the only thing he has left to do is hope. Donning his hat and taking up his cane (tonight, the silver head resembles a cluster of grapes), he takes up Iphi's bouquet before setting out: a spray of luminous night-blooming orchids that glow from within with a soft, rosy light.

Thus does he stride out into the Nexus, seeking the charming lady to whom he's promised a night of adventure.

Just before the hour of daffodils, Schön arrives at the nondescript little door to his office, glancing up and down the avenue to check if Amelia is in sight. The silver head of his cane is a cluster of grapes, today, hanging on the vine, and he is otherwise as immaculate as ever. He pauses, turning his face upward for a moment and closing his eyes to appreciate what passes for sunlight in the Nexus.

It had taken some time to find a world with a suitable orchestra, performing the right sort of pieces in the proper timeframe. Securing tickets had been a small effort, comparably, but a necessary one. All that remained now was to maintain a casual air while raising the subject to his employee and friend, during one of her visits. "I wonder, Verity, if you might be free this evening?"

(There is, an astute observer may note, a new piece hanging among the thin man's collection on the walls; a painting of a pumpkin, leaves, autumnal bounty.)

Schön has been busy, lately, meeting with various proprietors of Nexus businesses. As he steps out of one of the clothiers and finds the pace of the foot traffic, he issues a quiet summons: "Nekomata, I would speak with you. Kindly attend me at your earliest convenience." The course he winds through the crowd sends him toward the edge of the residential district, close to the parklands, where gloom has been gathering and deepening for weeks.

Schön has come to the Fox and Crosier with something odd, today, a sizable piece of luggage with a handle at one end and little wheels at the other, a briefcase hanging from his other hand. His cane is hanging on the luggage, for the moment.

He leaves his name with the front desk, asking Amelia to be told he's here whenever she wakes. That done, he makes his way to the dining room to wait.

Schön keeps an office in the Nexus, although he does most of his work outside it, an opulent retreat from the timeless bustle outside. Richly colorful Oriental rugs allow only glimpses of a polished oak floor. The desk is a monolith of mahogany, inlaid with accents of rosewood and teak, carved with reliefs of twining roots and branches, of fanciful creatures, and of faces peeking from among the leaves. The chairs before and behind the desk are upholstered in silk and buttery-soft leather, the one behind the desk tall and evocative of a throne.

The walls, papered in a deep Chinese red pinstriped with navy, are densely clustered with art in a dizzying array of styles; most are paintings, but a few cameos hang as well, and a Stradivarius enjoys pride of place over the mantle. Shelves behind the desk are similarly crowded with books and odd little knickknacks, the former rarely comprising the sort of orderly matched sets that tend to fill shelves behind desks in offices. To one side of the door stand a coat rack and a sideboard loaded with bottles of exotic libations, while to the opposite side stands a small table bearing several indistinct articles over which has been draped a gossamer shroud. Against one side wall sits an overstuffed couch, and in the opposite wall is set a fireplace, where a multicolored flame pops and crackles merrily, sending an occasional swirl of rainbow-colored sparks up the chimney.

The room has also been warded to a fare-thee-well, to keep out prying eyes and ears, ensuring that all which transpires within remains private. The wards, to an extent, even work both ways, for when the door is closed, all the noise from outside falls away.

Hanging up his hat and cane as he enters, Schön turns to offer a hand to escort Verity inside. "Please come in, Ms. Willis, and be seated comfortably. May I offer you anything to steady your nerves?"

((If you'd like to contact me OOC, or Schön in-character, this is the place to do it. Feel free to use the summoning ritual of your choice.))