Putting out the call

[Summer]

“I guess this is the place?” Somerled mumbled to himself, eyes darting between the building towering in front of him and the map in his hand. True to what the rest of Coruscant had been, it was quite a piece of modern architecture, all shiny and steel and very sore on the eyes. The monster averted his gaze skyward, rolling up the map in his left hand and shoving it back into a his coat pocket. Aside from the modernity everywhere, he’d have to say this “Tier 2” was much better than “Tier 1” had been. 

Here, at least, they didn’t even give an effort to pretend and control the weather. Instead, a poor facsimile stood in the sky, giving yet another illusion of a nice day. However, unlike the other one which was open air, this one was obviously closed off from the atmosphere. Anyone who had his sort of meteorological instinct would be able to immediately discern it from actual weather. Not that his power gave him any real advantage in this sense because it was also plainly obvious from the fucking roof over their heads. Presumably the base of the higher city if his elevator trip down had provided any clue.

The storm spirit’s gaze fell again, eyes focusing on the lab in front of him. While knowing the state of the weather was all well and good, he had more pressing matters to attend to. Glass and aluminum slid to the side as he took a step forward, automatic doors giving way as soon as they detected motion. His foot hesitated just before the next step, the spirit pausing for a moment before quickly pressing on.

Harsh, electric lights assaulted Somerled’s eyes as he stepped onto the tiled floor, door sliding closed behind him. Doing his best not to squint, the monster continued to amble forward towards what he assumed was a reception desk, though currently devoid of any staffing. A vague uncertainty stirred up in the back of his mind, perhaps they were closed? But why at noon of all times? He pushed the anxiety back out of his mind in a hurry. If they had been closed then the door would have been locked, he reasoned as he leaned up against the counter. His eyes scanned across the hard, glassy surface, searching for a bell or anything of the like that could be used to announce his presence. If push came to shove though he could always conjure up some lightning...

“Don’t even think about it,” his voice, hijacked by his other half, interrupted his mental rambling. The storm spirit mumbled something incoherent in response, mouth falling into a frown.

“My apologies for the wait,” an electronic voice suddenly spoke up, sending a rush of adrenaline through Somerled’s body. In a moment the spirit was standing straight up, body swiveling to face the newcomer. “May I help you?”

“Er...” he hesitated for a second, stumbling over the words he hadn’t even attempted to say yet, completely taken aback by the robot receptionist. “Um... Yes, I’m uh,” he cleared his throat with a quick, awkward cough. His posture was incredibly lax and uncertain, as he had no idea how to act around something that couldn’t be eaten or intimidated. “I’m here for a Dr. Regal. Uh, Somerled Murdoch’s the name if you have a list or something.”

“And your reason for the visit?” the robot prompted, its mechanical glare fixed on the youkai’s eyes.

“Something concerning ‘Nebula’ if the note given to me was anything to go by,” he responded, fidgeting awkwardly. At this point he seriously regretted giving the messenger his message back.

“Right this way then, sir,” the mechanical being turned and headed away through another set of automatic sliding doors, and Somerled followed. Before long, he had been lead to a small room, the receptionist beckoning him through the door and going on its merry way. The spirit spared a quick glance towards the other two occupants, presumably also called in by Regal, before plopping himself in one of the chairs provided and setting to work healing his fractured right hand. Hopefully he had enough time to get it up and running again...