Manic tapped his fingers along the edge of the private seating, his pristine gloves gleaming against the equally ritzy interior. Through the tinted windows, he could vaguely see the buildings along the city street pass by. It was evening now, and there weren't too many pedestrians about, making it rather peaceful. No paparazzi at least.
Leaning back, he felt his spines easily cushioned by the material holding him up, and the glass of whiskey sat half-empty with its big ball of ice. It was nice and comfy inside with AC, he could even control the lighting. There was room for like, seven people in this area, though he was thankfully by himself. His assistant sat up front by the driver, leaving him to solitude. They really shelled out for this ride...
How it mocked him.
He had a hoverboard, he had a van, he could rent a taxi service if he couldn't drive himself... but nope, he had the `privilege' to sit in the back of a limousine and look all important.
You're a prince, Manic. It's just the way things work.
He had to tell those words to himself over and over, reminding himself that it was just to keep his mom happy. She liked some of the old traditions, recalling how they'd gone in a carriage in the past. It was so gross.
And all he was doing was going to an interview!
``The Hero of Mobius, huh...'' he muttered under his breath. Who even was this mysterious person? No matter who he'd asked in Mobotropolis, coming in or out, it seemed no one had an answer for him, as this built up over the course of weeks... Name, species, age... it was as if he didn't even exist in a public record. Either that, OR it was the fact that unlike his own city, everyone else knew him by name rather than some inane title. And without a descriptor, they were shit outta luck.
Not really their fault, though, considering what they'd just came back from...
Well, that's what he was here for, anyways. To find this person, get the facts, make some sort of ambassadorship between them, and leave. Nothing to it... right?
Sighing, he looked down at his... atrocious outfit he was forced to wear for this event. He was a street kid by nature, even after their castle had been reclaimed; this just never suited him. He'd probably never grow into it... The stuffy fabric of his shirt and pants, the heat pooling in his body from his overcoat, his gloves felt too crisp, and gods, his shoes! While he could handle sneakers on a good day, nothing beat the freedom of being barefoot, and these were just the opposite of it. Barely any flex at all to the stupid things!
``We have arrived at the resort hotel, your highness,'' his chauffeur spoke through the built-in intercom, making him wince. One step closer to this madness... but also one step closer to freedom. Maybe these people could point him in the right direction anyways. With a grunt, he opened the door, ignoring the calls from his would-be assistant. If he had to do this, he was gonna do it the right way!
Looking up at the sight of his temporary housing, he had to admit, it... wasn't bad. It was a resort hotel, rather than a manor or any sort of stuffy place... He already knew his `room' was a whole penthouse, and he sighed.
``Alright, Manic, chin up... Just be cool.'' He heard a scuffle behind him, clearly from the pain-in-the-ass fumbling. ``Anything but my suitcases and I'm writing you up!'' he barked, ignoring whatever sputtering might have followed. He really didn't care...
He strolled up to the desk, ignoring the hushed whispers and gasps being attributed to his outfit, while giving his best smile to the clearly confused receptionist. ``Hi, uh... reservation fer Manic Hedgehog?''
Thankfully, the human running the stand didn't waste time with questions, though the constant double- and triple-takes were still a thing to deal with... Once the key was presented, he quickly whooped his thanks before scurrying up the stairs. Since his `lackey' was dealing with the luggage, he could scope his digs and then work on his own plan. No grandiose announcements, no guards, no guides, just him getting to know the town and maybe find some leads...
...If only he had some normal clothes... Everything was dressy! Not a single t-shirt, or vest... all his pants were slacks - hell, why did he even need pants?! He hadn't worn them most of his childhood! He'd seen everything that was packed before they left, and wanted to puke. Could he not just look like a regular guy? Did he have to look like a status symbol everywhere now??
With a resigned sigh, he keyed the slot in the door and trudged inside, making sure to leave his shoes by the doorway. Though now that he saw it, he had to say... it felt almost... peaceful. Despite being so close to the city, it had a really nice view overlooking a vast wooded area to the north, and there was plenty of light coming in from the wall of windows. Better yet was the bed being nice and isolated, as he had definitely made sure he got his own room. He'd be damned if any of his assistants got to invade his privacy out here... And really, while being `high-end' the room itself didn't scream `lavish.' It looked more like a modest house, and he could appreciate that SO much.
Even better, he didn't have to wear the goddamn crown out here. That little circlet of silver felt like like heavy chains whenever he put it on his head for ceremonial purposes. How something so small could have such a mental weight to it... His mom had the patience of a saint.
The knock at the door distracted him from further musing, and he stomped to the door, his nose pressed to the wood. ``Drop it a'th door, man.''
``Prince - ''
``LUGGAGE N' GO! We ain't doin'is shit here! Mom c`n ream me i'she wants when we gebback,'' he hissed out, making sure to really pour on the street accent. Talking `proper' was good for when he had to save face, but he wasn't giving his wannabe shadow a chance. Not this time. He could really give some venom to his words when he talked normally, and he had to resist the urge to smirk. There was a beat of silence before he heard two solid thunks hit the walkway. He stayed silent, waiting until he was sure the old dog was walking away, before quickly pulling the suitcases into his quarters.
He didn't hate the guy, by any means. He was a good man, and he looked out for him and his sister. But gods, he always treated them like some sort of authority. ``My Prince'' this, ``Your Highness'' that. He couldn't even remember the last time he ever called him, or Sonia, by name... They needed to get on equal ground. Maybe they could have a better talk at breakfast time or something. Shaking his head, he slipped off the overcoat and slid open one of the glass sliding doors to the balcony. Gods, it felt so good to get some air!
It was winter in this part of the world, and while it had recently snowed, for now it was just a brisk breeze. Once he slipped off his dress socks, he padded out to enjoy the view, the chilled cement blissful against his bare soles. There was even a pool and hot tub, though it looked like the former was closed off with a mechanical cover. Maybe he'd take a dip later...
For now, he allowed himself some contentment. The setting sun was beautiful out here, and he could see in the distance how it reflected off of a large lake. Maybe he'd go there later on.
This wasn't some straightforward event, like most. With his lack of information, he had no clue where the Hero of Mobius was exactly. Just that he lived somewhere near here... But apparently he had no address himself?? Which Manic found really weird. What super-famous-outside-of-Mobotropolis person didn't have a house of their own? He apparently lived with a sibling, but again, very little info was given to his mom.
``Guess he's got problems with royalty,'' he scoffed, but he couldn't feel angry about it. He hated being royalty, so he could imagine hating dealing with it too.
So he was on a time limit, of sorts. Two weeks to hopefully find out who he needed to find, and get the interview set up. With how often he was out either fighting or tracking some gems of some kind, it was a risky schedule, but he could hope. And, really, it made the idea more fun! It gave him an excuse to walk around the city and talk to people, maybe actually relax for the first time in years. Too bad there wasn't a TV. His mom insisted he get the facts directly, so no `snooping' as she'd called it.
``Ugggghh... Even when I'm away I'm under her thumb.'' But he didn't have the heart to be mad at her... She'd been apart from them for ten years, and... No. He wasn't going to dwell on that. Not now.
Instead, he went back to his bed and flipped open his suitcases to do one more check. Suit one, suit two, suit three... toothbrush, toothpaste, soap... There really was so little here. But at least he got to take some personal things. He allowed himself a smile as he pulled out his bedtime plushie. The first gift he'd gotten from their mom once they were reunited... He ran a thumb over the stuffed animal's head, gently placing it at the pillow, and hanging all of his belongings in the provided closet. The nightstand was soon stacked with books, and his favorite tinker toy.
It was a `puzzle' but not in the traditional sense. It looked more like a wooden building or statue, and it was intricate as hell. It was custom made to keep his mind sharp, as it had inscriptions, secret switches, magnets... it was designed to require a lot of precision and analytical skill, things he still held dear from his days as a thief. Who knew, maybe while he was on this trip he could solve it?
The interview equipment, of course, was with his assistant in their own room, so he didn't have access to any of its tech. So he'd definitely be messing with his puzzle more often than not. Though not tonight. It was too late to get to work, so he called up room service for any available munchies and a small bottle of rum. He decided on a quick shower for tonight, eager to make use of the balcony tub, washing off the day. A delighted shiver ran through his fur at the wintry air blessing his wet fur, but with a click of a button, the water began to warm and bubble.
Once he fully immersed, the jets and bubbles finally put an end to the fog of noise in his head. The rum was rich and slightly spicy, giving him another warming sensation inside, and the little box of charcuterie cuts was a pleasant treat. He could do all his thinking tomorrow. For now, being alone with no thoughts was just what the doctor ordered.
