Meet the hero of my original game idea, "Great Architect", Aubley V. Bleen. Master draughtsman and pencilist at Rather, Morose & Sullen, Centerburg's biggest Architecture firm. Fascinated by ceilings more than floors, walls less than sides, and entrances rather than exits. Flawless order is all around him. Seamless connections between earth, sky, structure, and soul radiate from his temples. He seeks truth in form and views art as accessory. Music registers as math in his mind. Dancing looks like 3-D blueprints of the galaxy. The peripheral nerve that connects his brain to his eyes to his hands is about as wide as a garden hose - pumping and receiving communication twenty nine thousand times the speed of that new, really fast internet service only the FBI has. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of ancient, forbidden measurement units and extraterrestrial architectural conspiracies. This morning, he's was called into the board room. The shades were drawn. The door was locked (from both sides) and he was told of a very, very important...matter.
Seems as if "this gentleman" is interested in some freelance design work. To start immediately. Pay....undetermined at the moment. But, he will be taking Aubley to see the greatest architectural marvels in the entire universe. Mainly the ones NOT mentioned in any books or websites. Definitely not anything you have to pay admission to get into. They shake hands and Aubley sees an equation that doesn't make sense. Kinda looked like advanced Aborigonal physics and geometry mixed with daytime astronomy and...finger painting. He closes his eyes to concentrate and it disappears. There's a click sound in his ears and the faint hint of ragtime banjo fades up quickly. He opens his eyes and "this gentlemen" smiles. Aubley needs to discuss this propositon over with his most trusted friend.
Squeet shines shoes down at the train yard. Born to a wealthy entertainment industry power couple, he was kidnapped by an even wealthier and more powerful couple in the entertainment industry. The ensuing ransom bidding wars made everyone richer somehow. Squeet was treated fairly and kindly by all four parents and their vast array of cold, unloving servants. He was taught all the fancy arts and flourished in them all, but just felt out of place surrounded by such big, detailed oil paintings of convertibles and overflowing vases of expensive freshly cut flowers. He ran away when he was 7 and now lives in a garage apartment, shining shoes for money and feeling pretty pleased about everything. He saw the "gentleman" Aubley met with. Just got into town the day before. Shined his shoes. Nice shoes. Seemed normal to him. Well, he did arrive on his own train. That was weird. And the money he paid with. It was made of flimsy metal stuff that emitted light and a low humming noise. Nice fella, though. Asked if there was a Mexican restaurant nearby.
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