Welcome to the Ninth

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Marlena Prynne, co-owner and CEO of ‘Faust’, a company that specialized in manufacturing women’s footwear. Her fiancé and lead designer served as the face of the company while Marlena worked as the business head whose strategies and charming people skills were the primary cause of the fast-growing success of the company. Recently, she had been put in charge of the newest branch of expansion to men’s footwear and clothing. Her associates would call her ideas “brilliantly insane”, her aspirations were far beyond that of any sensible businesswoman, but they got her farther than any man in the business.
Her fiancé, the red-headed drama queen, Lina Holland, had been in Milan on a designer’s retreat. For an entire month, Marlena was able to do all she wanted, so obviously she did nothing but work. She had just returned from her trip to Tokyo to meet with a Mr. Tanaka, Faust’s biggest benefactor, completed the necessary paperwork for expansion of factories to Hong Kong and Australia, and still had three weeks to spare. Her next destination for the expanse of her corporation was none other than London. She planned on meeting with a few new potential investors, observing the population, and getting a clear idea of the common people buying the products that were responsible for building her fortune. Why was she so eager to busy herself? The simple reason behind any betrothed woman’s irrational actions, of course, to avoid her soon to be in-laws.

Upon arriving in London, the aristocrat felt the faintest sense of déjà vu. The scent in the air was sweet from the bakery on the corner, the faint aroma from cigarette smoke and wine brought back memories from the time she lived there before her move to her current home in France. Despite her life of luxury, she was perfectly content without the riches her wealth had offered, which was something she prided herself on. While she walked to the five star hotel she would be staying in, (so much for being a “simple” woman), rolling her outrageously expensive designer suitcase behind her, the smile never left her face. She almost broke down in a laughing fit when she saw a fully-grown obese man nearly reduced to tears over his ice cream falling to the dirty floor. It was her guilty pleasure, Marlena loved to watch the misfortunes of others, while she would never tell it to anyone, she wouldn’t deny it had she been asked.

Later that night...

While wandering the empty streets in hope of finding a decent enough tavern to get a well-deserved drink or four, Marlena heard a the softest of scuffles. Her head jerked around, trying to find the source of the faint jingling, but saw nothing. With a shake of her head, she continued to walk forward; her destination couldn’t have been more than two blocks away. In the corner of her eye, she saw her, a petite figure with a ring of small bells around her ankle. As her eyes slowly drifted upward, she saw the Chinese beauty in a tiny little outfit with matching bells around her wrists, her eyes gazed into her, beckoning for Marlena to follow her down the darkened alley. Despite her better judgment, she did just that. She had been following the captivating stranger down the alleyway for about five to ten minutes, the girl spoke not a single word, and neither did she. While anyone would be attracted and tempted beyond belief by the young tigress of a woman, Marlena found herself more intrigued. Where was she leading her? Was this even happening? Finally she saw it, a small door with a humble sign above reading “Ninth Ring”.
Just as she walked through the flimsy wooden door, Marlena Prynne knew immediately that nothing would be the same ever again.


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Quarl was sitting on a stool, contemplating. Contemplating what the perfect composition would be. It would need repition but not to the extent that it didn't feel like progress was being made, equally not too much progress, as to allow indulgence in what has already happened, Quarl thought, playing a long drawn out open 'G' on his violin. " There are but seven notes A,B,C,D,E,F,G given an infinite amount of time no mattet how diverse or long a piece is, it will be repeated and all posible combinations would already exist. That is unless there was a piece that lasted forever, the perfect composition would have to last forever to avoid risk of being repeated," Quarl said. " Therfore the energy and time required to play such a piece would be infinite, requirements I do not fulfil," Quarl said monotonously. " What I'd give to be in a super substantial state that allowed playing of a great and never ending opus."
Quarl played a sped up Monti Csadras, it was already fast so speeding it up gave off a disorientating sound the notes seemed to merge so it was almost impossible to distinguish them. Within 2 minutes it was finished the burst of activity seemed random but it had purpose, it's purpose being to test the tesion of the strings.
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