STARLIGHT [MASHLE X OC]

EP 1 - Drink your problems away!

Scrunching up the letter in one hand and hanging up on the rabbiphone, Orter Madl has had enough. "008, throw these away," tossing them towards his tiny beast servant who swiftly caught it and did as he was commanded. He dropped back into his chair with a heavy sigh.

Of all the things his parents had raised him within their power to be: It wasn't to be married.

'I already told them to stop setting me up on blind dates after the last one but they don't listen,' he cursed to himself as he looked over the last batch of reports. His next meeting with the field officers was tomorrow morning too, massaging his temple for a moment before he continued onto the next paper.

"008."

"Yes, sir?"

"Clean the office up before you head out."

"Yes, sir," his servant bowed as he walked out of the room and did as told.

He didn't bat an eye at this, continuing until 9 o'clock in the evening. It was as normal. If only his parents didn't pester him, loosening his grip on the quill. His eyes glanced towards the simple white vase on his desk with flowers. It's an arrangement of heliotropes, calendula, impatiens, and other plants he hadn't memorised by heart. It's always the same few plants though. Never changing yet always glimmering in a faded hue. A preservation spell. Whoever bothered with this was talented.

There was still time to spare so instead of reaching for his wand, he opted to take a brisk walk outside once he was done. Locking all the doors as usual and being the last to leave again.

The moonlight hid itself amidst clouds as the new lamps, with the new flame retaining technology from the Magical Research Administration, gently illuminated the cobblestone path towards the main road. During the day, it would be bustling with marketing, stalls, and crowds of all demographics but the calm night revealed only the faint lights through curtained windows.

'Seems like businesses took in the new notice rather well,' he told himself, taking a left turn into a more secluded alleyway. Burned onto a wooden sign was simply: Joe's.

Opening the door with a chime, he was greeted by the man himself. "You're here, Orter!" The old man Joe called out to him amidst the noise. "My favourite regular," he added, quickly filling up a jug with beer.

The brunette held back his chuckle, "As always."

"Alone again?" placing a drink infront of him.

Only to be met with a resounding group of reactionary vowels amidst a wicked howl in the background. He scowled in annoyance towards the source yet the thud of the jugs of beer infront of him shoved that priority away. "Seems like they were betting on something important," Joe whispered. The bar wasn't connected to a gambling den though but the oldie was at peace. 'They're probably kids,' he commented, their snickers drowned out by the gramophone's blast of jazz recordings.

Orter loosened his tie, "To answer your question, Ryoh's just a lightweight. It wouldn't be worth bringing him here again."

"Then you went to another bar?" He jokingly sounded offended. "A favourite too!" Faking a sniffle; "I get it, the magazines make you a wanted and prized guest," the owner laughed as he cleaned another round of glasses while the Divine Visionary drowned his thoughts with a clean chug. Minutes pass by and the kids had left before the clock had struck midnight, leaving the two men alone in the bar.

"You really do look forward to these monthly drinking contests, don't you?" Joe broke the silence as he saw the subtle moping face the Desert Cane held.

"Isn't it obvious?" He shot a glare at the man. "I've been doing it for the past 2 years."

"My bar isn't a popular one though."