Scent and a Sound

[Monolilith]

"I won't let you regret it, Mighty one." He leans back, fingers lacing across his stomach. "Would you mind closing the door? We have much to discuss. My magic is of the sort that forbids me from simply... pointing in the human's direction, but you'll find it quite worth your while."

[ParamountKeymaster]

"Hm. If you insist." Roman obliged, turning to close the door, then returning to the desk... all the while questioning what this guy's deal was. "Though I must ask before we continue... What is your name, sir?"

[Monolilith]

He chuckles, voice almost a churr for a moment there. "It's on the card, Majestic One, but for you... Dr. Aurthur Dahlstrom. Call me Captor, if you please." A hand, lithe and somewhat calloused, is extended across the desk.

[ParamountKeymaster]

"I see. Pleasure to meet you," Roman responded, clamping his paw down on Captor's hand and giving it a... somewhat firm handshake.

"Now then." Roman then took a seat. "Where do we begin?"

[Monolilith]

"We begin with your circumstances. I know them well enough, but I want to hear them from YOUR perspective, Roman. That's the one that really counts." He leans forward again, elbows on the desk and fingers lacing in front of his mouth. You know. The morally ambiguous genius pose. His gaze is scrutinizing, but not harsh.

[ParamountKeymaster]

"My circumstances..." Roman tilted his head, narrowed his eyes and mulled this over. "My circumstances... are really none too concerning. All I need is to locate the human Frisk. No other conditions required."

[Monolilith]

"You misunderstand the nature of my magic, Mighty Roman. I am a writer. I plot out narratives. I cannot lead you to Frisk without first understanding why you need them." His eyes narrow just a bit there, voice turning sterner. "I already know the truth. Tell it to me in your words, unless you'd rather me relay it myself."

[ParamountKeymaster]

Roman's eyes narrowed further into green slits. He wasn't sure whether or not to believe that this Captor really knew what he wanted. "It's really not that complicated. I wish to duel them. Not kill them, mind you; that would be no way to repay them for the kindness they have shown my people. I merely want to prove that I am a worthy challenger and see if they are as great as I have been led to believe."

[Monolilith]

"..."

He's silent for a considerable time after that, narrow eyes watching Roman with a certain... meticulously restrained sadness. But he sighs, head bowing.

"Very well, Roman. I will lead you to Frisk - on the condition that we have a follow-up meeting after the duel."

[ParamountKeymaster]

"If you insist." Roman firmly nodded and stood up. "Much gratitude, good sir. Let us proceed."

[Monolilith]

Reluctantly, Captor stands and goes around the desk. "Follow me," he says as he looks to Roman. His eyes glow for a moment. "I know where to go."

[ParamountKeymaster]

Roman grinned and rubbed his paws together, anxious to get this show on the road. He had been waiting for this fight for so long. The mere thought of finally confronting Frisk got his adrenaline pumping and his mouth salivating.

This was going to be his best day ever.

[Monolilith]

Caotor is utterly unresponsive to the boys obvious excitement. He pulls on his duster and opens ths door, wrapping around the corner He'll stay in sight as Roman follows, though only just, then stop when they reach the street, never once looking back at him.

"... Roman. Take my hand. I assure you, it's important."

[ParamountKeymaster]

"Hmph." He wanted Roman to hold his hand? He was grateful for the assistance in finding Frisk, sure, but did this man believe he was that dependent on him? Roman only begrudgingly complied for the sake of progressing. "I hope you know what you're doing. Just don't embarrass me."

[Monolilith]

"Mighty one, I know my profession intimately." He takes a step forward.

That's the last normal step. The world around them slows for a heartbeat, then speeds up, moving past them at a nausea-inducing rate. Everything brightens, a white sheen cast over all in sight and a low thrumming tone filling their ears. Pressure builds in their sinuses. Their legs grow weak. Moving feels more akin to hefting detached, impossible weights than shifting one's own body. Just when the light is almost too bright to bear...

Their step meets the ground and it dies, weight and pressure vanishing. Captor's hand is clammy when he releases it from Roman's, swaying slightly on his feet. As though exerted, though Roman surely feels no different than before the ordeal. "Here we are."