OOC: this thread is happening somewhat ahead of the current timeline.

To those not otherwise occupied around noon may witness a rather strange sight.

Prometheus skipping down the hallway to Mistral's room, humming a what sounds like some kinda pop song, although nothing currently on the charts. His face is dominated by a large grin.

Stopping at the door, he knocked loudly, before he said, "Are you in Misty?" After that she goes back to humming.

OOC: The song in question is this one for those who are curious. https://youtu.be/gJLIiF15wjQ Its quite possible Sal knows it, and its possible its been remade or remixed by some obscure artists obviously, so feel free to actually know it.

Mistral answered her cabin door in a neon green bathrobe that could only have been fabricated according to Grey’s distinctive fashion sense.  She glowered out at Prometheus, and stared at him a long moment before saying, “The Spice Girls, truly?  Come in, then.”  She stepped out of the way and let the red-jacketed man skip jauntily into her cabin.  She turned and leveled a speculative look at him and asked, “The so-called Lonely Mage has the reins, I take it?  What is it you want?  If you wish to spit more venom then I’d warn against it, unless you tire of being tethered to this world.”

"You have good taste," Prometheus, or rather as Mistral has guessed, the Lonely Mage, said with a smile as she skipped through the door, "Probably comes with the French. I always wanted to go to France... never got there, but I used to know the language."

The smile left her face for a moment, and she muttered, "It too is now dust. Gone, a memory of a memory, blown away in the wind."

But it was back way to quickly, "Still, Spice Girls and Neon Green. Clearly I knew I cam to the right place. Mmhmm, you will be perfect.

As Mistral asked why she was here, The Lonely Mage looked around the room, trying to pick where to sit. Finally throwing herself onto the couch she said, "You're right its me...and your wrong, I don't want to insult you. Never wanted to hurt you."

She giggled for a minute, "Okay, that's a lie, but this is why you should be careful seeking the truth. It hurts. It cuts like a bathtub full of razors. Still, its in the blood that drips from the body after such a swim that true knowledge can be found."

She goes quiet for a second, before muttering, "We all need to bleed...it proves we aren't dust. Aren't wood and folds and ink either."

She waved her hand, as if shoeing away something invisible, "Should you wish an apology for what I was forced to reveal, I will give it. But I can lie now and you know it. Would you rather start a friendship on a painful truth...or a happy lie."

Kicking her legs up, she giggled once again then slipped and fell of the couch, "Stupid slippery coat. Almost as dumb as the metal hair."

Sal recognized the now 'classic' earworm, and, suspicious, followed the sound, staying out of sight. Quietly, he eavesdropped on the mages, prepared to provide support in case the Lonely Mage was up to something unpleasant.

“I will be perfect?  Careful, mon chérie.  Your schemes are showing.”  Mistral remained standing with arms crossed, leaning against the bulkhead wall not far from the door, her discerning gaze never leaving Prometheus and his possessor.  At the end of the curiously poetic and half-mad diatribe Mistral shook her head and said, “I require no apology, nor to be shielded from hard truths.  We met on poor terms.  I understand why you reacted so, if yourself and your sister suffered such torments at the hands of forebears of my Order.  I know nothing of that, and do not take kindly to false accusations, spécialement of that kind.  If we may move past such nonsense, we may speak as reasonable folk do.”

Mistral paused, then asked, “So, why is it you have sought me out?”