Three days after the customs annex, St. Lucia sits under fog like it is wrapped in wet wool. Dallas Fontaine steps into the hotel lobby with Murderbone at his heel, Jackson Temple beside him, and Elena Vane carrying the easy calm of someone who has already clocked every exit.
Their luggage rolls across polished tile, up to rooms that smell faintly of salt and old varnish. The clerk barely looks up. Out on the street, the sea wind taps the windows like a soft reminder that the world keeps moving.
Murderbone circles once, then settles by Dallas's door as if assigning himself guard duty. Jackson drops his bag, loosens his collar, and gives the hallway a tired glance before heading for the lift with Dallas.
The hotel bar waits below in mahogany and dim amber light. Glasses shine behind the counter, bourbon breathes from the shelves, and the room feels built for men who have forgotten how to sleep.
Jackson Temple
I could get used to this kind of quiet. Feels illegal, after all that noise.
Dallas and Jackson take their seats, the ice clinking softly between them. Across the room, Elena lingers near the doorway with a drink in hand, watching them with a small, knowing look that says she is not done with the night yet.
Elena Vane
You two are only having one round, right? Because I am not dragging either of you back upstairs if you start acting old and sentimental.
The bar's low music hums under the murmur of the room. Jackson lifts his glass toward Dallas, and the evening finally slows enough to breathe.
✓ Quest Accepted
Settle the lingering paranoia from the investigation
✓ Quest Accepted
Marry Elena by the week's end
“I turn to Jackson and say "i didn't know we would become such good friends. War buddies atleast with what we've been through. I would be honored if you would be my best man at the wedding Saturday."”
FAILURE (Superb Psychology, rolled -3)
“I turn to Jackson and say "i didn't know we would become such good friends. War buddies atleast with what we've been through. I would be honored if you would be my best man at the wedding Saturday."”
SUCCESS (Superb Psychology, rolled -1)
Dallas Fontaine
Jackson, I did not know we would turn into this. War buddies, I guess, after everything. I would be honored if you would be my best man on Saturday.
The words hang there between the amber lamp and the ice in Dallas's glass. Jackson does not answer right away, and that silence costs Dallas a little, just enough to make the room feel real again.
Jackson Temple
Best man. He is asking me like it means something, because it does.
Jackson Temple
Yeah. Yeah, Dallas. I can do that.
Jackson's shoulders ease on the second word, and he gives a short laugh that sounds more relieved than amused. He sets his glass down carefully, like the answer matters enough not to spill.
Elena Vane
Well. That is probably the sweetest thing anyone has said in this bar all week.
Elena smiles into her drink, then glances at Jackson and Dallas with the kind of look that quietly marks a line crossed in public and survived. Murderbone lifts his head at the change in tone, then settles again.
Jackson Temple
I am serious, too. I will wear the tie, stand there, the whole embarrassing routine.
He reaches into his jacket, pulls out a folded napkin, and writes something on it with a stubby hotel pen, the tip making a dry scrape. The pen leaks once, leaving a dark blot on his cuff.
Quest Complete
Settle the lingering paranoia from the investigation