Snippet #2760685

"Thank you, good sirs," the fiery-eyed titan said, and with a bow of his head, he patted the corporal on the back, trying to restrain his strength, slipping a business card into his hand. On it was something about... Grimms Scientia Obscurum... information broker. "Keep up the good work." He walked through the door, unconcerned of the little hitchhiker he had picked up along the way. It was worse for a man his size, to squeeze through such a tight stairway, but his eyes actually helped to illuminate the way down. At the end he found himself facing another door.

"I see their security is not taken lightly, or... there was a sale on sliding doors," he muses to himself as Skitters grumbles to herself, squeezing past the titan's body and pushing the buzzer on the wall. Sliding open a little slot on the door that'd reveal two scrutinizing eyes. "Greetings, I am Sir Betelgeuse Grimms... entrepreneur... and to-be explorer. Off to rekindle my spirit of youth an-"

"What's with the fat squirrel?" the guard interrupts, looking over at Skitters.

"F...fat!? Squirrel!? Excuse you, ya rude git!" Skitters responds, face reddening from the sheer nerve! "First off, this is mostly fluff, secondly, I am of the order Procyon Supremus, not some stinkin' rodentia cur!"

"Ah, looks are deceiving, it seems! I believe this spirited young lady is a volunteer as well." Grimms says, rubbing his chin. "Perhaps a good match for my son..."

"Y-young... l-l... w-what was that about...?" she stumbles, becoming increasingly flustered, only amusing Grimms more. "Anyways, yes, YES, I am here as a volunteer as well! Skit- er... no, I mean, I am esteemed lady, the Duchess Basalah." She says, her voice gaining a pompous tone as she tilts her nose to the air and closing her eyes, fanning herself to try to look as (self) important as possible.

"Yeah, okay," the guard says, clearly becoming exhausted from this exchange. With another buzz, the door slides open, letting the two enter.

As Grimms walked through, he took a moment to straighten his suit and dust it off. He scrutinized the area with his blazing eyes. It wasn't exactly like a stylish resort, to say the least. He took a moment to test the amount of dust on one of the couches with one of his gloved hands, and, after looking at his finger, decided... it was best to remain standing.

"Quite the veritable genius's fortress," Grimms comments.