Trouble in the office

Arther took his time recovering from his rewarding time with Becksdale, and by the time he made it into the office it was nearly lunch.

Saris Violora was not amused by this in the least.

She had been sitting in Arthur’s office for hours, wondering what in the hells that smell was, and wondering how such a slob could have received such a glowing recommendation from one of her best managers. Arthur entered, unaware of the danger awaiting him.

"Mr. Penn." Today she wore a blood red blouse under a black suit jacket with a matching black pencil skirt. She looked ready to cut throats and rend flesh from bone.

"Oh, um. Mrs. Violora. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Mr Penn, What have you done with my granddaughter?"

"I'm not sure what-"

"I know she was at your apartment all weekend, Mr Penn. Choose your next words very carefully or I'll personally ensure that you never work again and that you will die pennyless and alone in that dingy hovel you call an apartment."

Arthur thought about it for a moment, before stepping closer.

Yes. Give in to the Darkside, Arthur.

"Well, I suppose I dont have much to say except maybe- Trance." The tip of his finger connected with her chest the moment he said that last word and a blank expression spread across the ageless Violora's face.

Arthur sighed.