<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/20/Annalimug2.jpg)<br/><em>Factotum Annali Webspinner </em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Factotum Annali Webspinner<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Elloweth Theater, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br/><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br/>The single applause of Factotum Webspinner was lonesome among all the empty seats, but it was given more heartily this time. The bariaur's hoof gave a stamp when the applause stopped; rumor was that this tell was like the swish of a cat's tail, but told with equal confidence was that the bariaur stamp was like a bull preparing to charge. "That one has pizzazz," she said. "I like it. Keep in the jump scare, people respond to being scared. They'll remember it, and they'll tell their friends, and they'll come back. That's the kind of thing we need."<br/><br/>There was more movement of her pen across the time sheet than normally punctuated a performance. "I want you to come by my office tomorrow, so we can schedule a meet with the panel." She was speaking to Fei, specifically, though her eyes did flit to Aella for just a moment. "Is she alright? You seem distressed, dear." Cut the fat, that was what Annali was known for. As she was peering at Aella through her tipped-back spectacles, she was gauging whether the glorified prop would really benefit the performance, whether she were a weak link that needed replacing, whether she could be trained. "It's an accessible story, a love story. It's alternative; raciness is good. It has emotion and boasts a new experience of being afforded a peek into the den of a medusa. A medusa queen, was it? I'm not familiar with that one." She was writing as she spoke, reminding herself on paper of why she had liked the performance. There were many more to see before the auditions were done.<br/><br/>Annali trotted up to the stage and placed a little slip of paper at the apron of the stage, where Fei would need to kneel down to take it. Drawn with an artist's care was a map from the Reception Hall to the Sensate Sensorium, showing exactly where Annali's office lay. There was an unmistakable glint in the Factotum's eye as she looked up at the changeling. "My office doors open about this time every morning, unless we're doing auditions. Slide a note under my door if I'm out. Try to remind me of who you are- none of this <em>it's me </em>nonsense." She aimed a frown at the applicants still waiting for their shot: an earthy creature studded with bioluminescence, clockwork knights in elaborate armor, a wild-looking dwarf with a wagon of caged animals, a bariaur jingling with a portable lab of stoppered phials, and dozens more. "I lose count of all the messages I receive that begin with <em>it's me. </em>Do you know how I sort them?" A pause, while nobody ventured a guess. "Straight into the refuse."<br/><br/>The Factotum waved for Fei and her lover to vacate the stage as she took her place out in the empty audience and grabbed a complimentary pastry. "Who's next?"</td></tr></tbody></table><hr/><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/4d/FaithfulServantLi.jpg)<br/><em>Faithful Servant Li </em><br/><br/>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/59/Dustman.jpg)<br/><em>Dustman </em></td><td><strong>A Most Urgent Matter</strong><br/><strong>Location:</strong> Reception Hall, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br/><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><em>"G</em></span></span>ood day, and welcome to the Civic Festhall," sang the honeyed voice of Cuatha Da'nanin, at her perch on the reclaimed throne where she sipped her morning tea. "What have you come to experience?"<br/>The short and heavy man before her was out of breath and mopping his brow with a corner of cloth. "I am looking for someone," he announced. "It is imperative that I find her."<br/>"Ah, yes, I see." Cuatha could not be rushed. She had a natural flow that went uninterrupted as she gingerly lifted a leatherbound book from beside the throne and opened it beside her teacup. She turned the pages as though she were preserving an heirloom for future generations of clerk. "The Civic Festhall houses many offices, but we keep a record of them here. Do you have an appointment with the party you wish to reach?"<br/>"No, it's nothing like that. She isn't a, ah, <em>one of you," </em>the man replied. "She is about five feet high, with long black hair, and dressed in fine silks. Have you seen her?"<br/>"Many pass through these doors. I do not remember such a person- my apologies."<br/>Flustered, the heavy man continued forward, gesturing with his hands. "This is important. I am Faithful Servant Li, proxy to Yen-Wang-Yeh. This woman, she is a petitioner who escaped to your city."<br/><br/>Cuatha's smiling eyes came up to meet those of Li. She slipped away the book, and finished the last of her tea, and slipped an elaborate sword scabbard around her hips. The seal of the Sensates decorated the hilt of the elven blade, and around the pommel was engraved an Elvish promise to her betrothed, Factol Darkflame. "Then let us find her quickly," the half-elf said. The throne went unattended as she strode into the Festhall, leaving the pudgy proxy to jog after the strides of her long legs.<br/>A gloomy, bedraggled woman stepped out of the queue as Li and Cuatha moved away with purpose. With shoulders hunched under a frayed cloak still wet from the rain, she began to follow a safe distance behind the heavy man. The Festhall was not a common destination for the Dustmen, who sought the True Death that could only come from the suppression of emotion, the waning of desire, and the void of sensuality that was antithesis to the Society of Sensation. She was not here for the Sensoriums. A wickedly curved sacrificial dagger hung at her plain brown robe as she moved a little bit faster, into the wake of the proxy and the Factol's lover, keeping pace with them.</td></tr></tbody></table>