It was always over by 6 PM.<br/><br/>You'd think a security firm, a place where weathly people entrusted their valuables (Physical and otherwise) would be more stalwart, more aware during the night hours. But like most other professional businesses, the employee's watched the tick-tick-ticking of the clock as it slowly wound down to that magic number 6, quiting time. There was no cat-like readiness, no creeping paranoia for the guards and accountants and managers. Just the quiet, maddening need to be at home watching T.V; their only blanal respite from a job of even more blanality.<br/><br/>Miranda's life was far from Blanal, even with this job. After work there awaited an array of mysteries. Secrets hidden like miner's gold across the urban sprawl, waiting for some enterprising soul to reach out and make their fortune... or die trying. Already the whispers were coming in about the Duchesses Gala, or who was carried off by the Nervosa, or the activities of the hidden willworkers.<br/><br/>They awaited the Fae. Gleaming in the night.