Maxxob
The Overseer
Tau
| Rua - RP GOAL: Acquire Asset Animal Harvester F
Revi
| Lona
The Great Arts - Suikoden V
Night settles over the bustling streets of Ryken, and tonight, the city feels even livelier than usual.
A kaleidoscope of lanterns glimmers in the darkness, illuminating winding avenues of multicolored facades and exotic stalls hawking everything from grilled phoenix peppers to potions in perfume bottles. Overhead, the pink moon drifts lazily across the sky—its rosy glow washing the city’s tallest spires in a gentle, almost whimsical light. Somewhere behind it, the green moon lurks out of sight, just biding its time before making a spectacle of its own.
And spectacle is exactly what draws the crowds tonight. An enormous queue stretches along a grand boulevard leading to a lavish, newly renovated art gallery. The structure itself towers like a temple of marble and stained glass, exuding the sort of opulence you’d expect from Ryken’s high-class circles. Gold filigree door handles, plush red carpeting at the entrance… yes, it’s definitely one of those “you should be wearing your finest clothes and maybe a second set of pearls” kind of places.
A veritable parade of Ryken’s upper echelon shuffles restlessly in line. Humans draped in embroidered silks, fae sporting luminescent hair ornaments, a few constructs with polished plates that reflect the pink moonlight, and beastkin clad in the latest western fashions. There’s an odd hush among them—anticipation, perhaps, tinged with curiosity at the evening’s flamboyant host: Madame Arcadia, unveiling the works of the elusive (and questionably real) Salvatori Daqui.
At the very front of this waiting throng stands a small podium, behind which an odd figure is scribbling furiously in a ledger. It’s... sort of a beastkin? Yet, to anyone who knows what a typical beastkin looks like, the differences are stark. This creature has a wildly cartoonish silhouette, impossibly large ears, and eyes so wide they threaten to eclipse its face. Its fluffy tail flicks with unnatural enthusiasm as it greets each patron:
“Welcome to the exhibition, fancy-pants folks! Name, profession, secret favorite ice cream flavor, and tax ID number, please!”
It cackles at its own joke and winks—as though it suspects someone, somewhere, is reading this scene in the comfort of their own home. With a flourish, it jots down each new arrival’s name in swooping, practically illegible script. Still, no one dares question the catlike creature. After all, it’s apparently an official representative of the event—unless it simply dressed up for the occasion and declared itself so. In Ryken, sometimes you just roll with the weirdness, especially on art night.
Gradually, the line behind this comedic, catty gatekeeper grows shorter. The crowd inside must be finding their seats or ogling bizarre paintings of warped clocks and cosmic fur surfaces. Soon, there’s a noticeable gap in the queue; it’s finally short enough for any newcomers to approach without being stuck in the night’s endless parade of embroidered suits and clacking high heels.
The strange beastkin—who might just be a Neco-Arc, or perhaps something even more indescribable—adjusts its tiny top hat (or is it a bonnet?), waves a quill with gusto, and beckons for the next person to step forward:
“Next, please! Step right up to the front of the line, you who are surely important or at least convinced of it! Oh, do I see new faces…?”
With a broad, toothy grin, it peers through the pink moonlight at anyone who dares close the distance.
“Name, dear friends, name! We must record your presence for posterity—and potential comedic value.”
The moment hangs in the crisp night air, an invitation filled with promise, intrigue, and the faintest hint of comedic mischief. After all, absolutely nothing strange is going to happen at an extravagant art exhibition hosted by Madame Arcadia, showcasing the works of a mustachioed, possibly imaginary painter… right?
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