{18th Summer, 513 AV
19th bell}
Isolde wasn't panting. She didn't need to. Running certainly didn't bother a Nuit as much as it did a normal, living person. There was none of that nonsense about muscles getting tired, no having to worry about getting overheated or sore or dehydrated or dizzy or feeling ill... Still she looked positively disheveled, but that could only be expected from having run through the streets of Syliras right as night was falling, bumping and shoving into the straggling citizens that were blundering around in her way, and they were no doubt looking for a good place to drink their fill for the night. Isolde wasn't worried at all about politeness at the moment, or about her usual timid nature. This was important. Important enough that it could not wait, and damn subtly.
So she was thundering into the office of the Traveler's Row, cursing herself that she couldn't remember Kouri and Rena's room number. She nearly slammed into the counter, finding nobody there, and swore aloud before beginning to insistently ring the bell attached to the wall, clangclangclangCLANG--CLANG-- She knew it was rude, but still... the Nuit couldn't find it in herself to care. She would tip the person who answered her summons to make up for it, a silver Miza or two, and then certainly they would be glad to help her find the ghost's room, and Isolde was praying the girl was home and not out flying about, playing tricks or slaughtering unwitting criminals. Please, Kouri, be home--
It was important for the ghost to be home because it was no longer explicitly safe for her to be out. There was a bounty on her head, that was what the Nuit had seen posted on that strange, public bulletin board, and even if Isolde didn't approve of Kouri's murderous side, she also couldn't leave the girl to her fate. She had to at least warn her. Perhaps the Nuit was being melodramatic, but the posting had just smacked of danger... and if anyone understood being wary, it was Isolde. Her entire life was wary.
When a Konti woman finally came bustling over to the front desk, brow furrowing when she saw who was summoning her, crossing her arms, Isolde was practically dancing in place with anxiety, thinking, Hurry up, hurry up, HURRY UP. Finally the woman got close enough and the Nuit called out, rummaging in her pockets for Mizas to assuage the woman and encourage her cooperation, "F-Fubuki Kouri! What room is sh-she in? Is she home? Pl-Please, it's urgent!" Slapping the Mizas down on the desk that she could find --a shining SM and two or three CM, she wasn't counting-- the Nuit looked imploringly at the woman, and who gave a petch if she creeped her out, as long as the Konti answered her urgent questions!
The woman gave the Nuit a long look, not looking particularly disturbed, and then glanced down at the Mizas upon the counter, thoughtful. Isolde was almost grinding her teeth she was so antsy, but finally the Konti scooped the coins off the desk, and said in a pointedly polite tone, "I believe she's home, dear. Room 112. Mind your manners; early risers will be trying to get some sleep."
"Thank you! Thank you!" the Nuit cried, and then she was rushing past the woman, practically stumbling over her own feet in her haste, Room 112, she should have remembered such an easy number.
What felt like a blur of mindlessly similar apartment doors and a few ticks later, the Nuit came jogging to the ghost girls' room, raising a hand, wincing as she hammered on the door with her knuckles, THUD THUD THUD. "K-Kouri, Rena-- Kouri open up! It's Isolde! Please!" The Nuit was praying that the Konti had been right, and that Kouri hadn't phased out of the building without being seen.
Receipt-1 SM, 3 CM