Noir

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Woke up one day with very little memory of who he is, only knowing two things:
- He's a detective, and he's in hot water.
- He's not in his own body.

In the mean time, he lives around the Northeast part of Sornieth, doing detective jobs here and there, including but not limited to the Ridge.

Apparel Notes (Because they're an ancient!):
Always wears a strange black trench coat, with a white shirt and black tie underneath. Has a black fedora that he keeps low over his face. Wears high rise pants with a metal belt. He claims he had boots at some point, but he lost them.

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"Alright then. Now's better than ever, I suppose." Noir spoke with a smooth voice, his accent thick and untraceable, "It was a dark, and stormy night... oh, wait. That's a bit cliche, isn't it?"

Stella glanced up from under his mane. "Sir, this is a therapy session. You can say whatever you want."

Noir chuckled to himself. "Alright then. It was stormy that night, I remember that for certain. The sound of rain hittin' the pavement was louder than my own thoughts. I was... trying to think about a case I was working on."

"A case, huh? That's right, you're a police officer?"

"I'd be insulted if you were anyone else. No, I was a PI. And a damn good one, you bet your tail."

The therapist glanced at his psychiatrist partner, Sykio. She looked just as at a loss as him. This was going to be a long night.

"Ok, well, do you remember anything about the case you were working on then?"

Noir closed his eyes tight, trying to recall even a sliver of recollection on what he was doing that night. "Mmm... not specifically. It was dangerous. It was about the mafia. But what else would it be about in that city?"

Stella and Sykio exchanged glances. "The mafia? Like, Crescendo's mafia?"

The Banescale shook his head with certainty. "Nope. This was a different piece of work. Though they remind me of one another. This geezer had ruled this city for years. I wasn't scared of him though. I was hot on his tracks, and he knew it."

Noir rolled his head back, as if searching for something under his eyelids. A large grin filled his toothy mouth. "It started with... her. What a dame."

Sykio chirped in. "Who's this?"

"She was a storm waiting to happen... the smoke off a freshly shot magnum. She was breathtaking, in every sense of the word."

The tundra buried his head into his paws from the secondhand embarrassment he was starting to feel.

Sykio continued, "This is good, if you remember what she looks like. Could give us clues to what species you were. Do you remember anything specific about her form?"

"Beautiful." Noir chirped with a flutter to his voice.

"No, like, was she more broad, like a Snapper? Or slim like a spiral?"

He shook his head again. "Biped. Slim. Tall."

"Wildclaw?"

"I'm not sure she was even a dragon at this point. No wings, at least not that I can remember... its still all just vague shapes and colors."

Sykio leaned in with curiosity. "Fascinating," She turned back to Stella lowering her voice a notch, "Beastclan, perhaps? I've never even considered tha-"

"She came in one night, frustrated. I knew trouble was coming my way the second my door slammed open." Noir interrupted, caught up in his own thoughts. "Someone close to her- I'm not sure who- maybe a sister or something had been stickin' their nose into the wrong people's business. Specifically the mafia. I knew ‘bout it for ages now, but this was the first time anyone had come to me about it specifically."

Sykio leaned back in her chair and took a sip of coffee, intrigued by the Banescale's tale. Stella looked like he was already lost.

"Anyway, she also wanted me to be stickin' my nose places it didn't belong. That was my job, after all. And my pockets had run dry. Her curse was almost a blessing."

"So you took the case?"

"Hesitant to, but yes. The mafia was no joke, as you all probably know all too well."

Sykio nodded with understanding. "We sure do. Please continue."

"Right, Right. Uh..." The Banescale's eyes blinked open. "Damn... what did happen that night?" He trailed off with uncertainty. "I was goin' to the mafia's meeting place, that's right. I thought I had finally pinpointed them. They were throwing a bash. Hotel casino, perhaps. It didn't matter too much..."

"Do you remember what the city you were in looked like, or what it was called?" Stella chimed in.

"Dark. Grey. Gloomy. Full of people you wouldn't want to encounter in a dark alley." Noir looked up at the ceiling again. "It was... well, it started with a C. I can tell you that much."

"I see... no pun intended. Was it a big city?" Stella asked.

"Yes. Tall buildings, the city glowed even into the dead of night. Lively, but that wasn't always a good thing."

"Here's a question for thought, Noir. Was it diverse? Lots of people that looked like you? Here at the Ridge, we have dragons of all shapes and sizes and breeds."

Noir sat quietly for a moment, thinking hard about the question. Eventually he shook his head with disappointment. "I couldn't tell you. I can't remember any dragons, though."

"This is quite the puzzle then, isn't it?"

"A puzzle I wish I didn't have to solve, but yes."

Noir leaned back into his seat, shifting his wings around with discomfort. The Banescale looked down at them with frustration. "I miss my arms, that's for sure!" He barked.

"Do you know what they looked like? Your arms?"

"Not clumsy. Actually practical. Preferred over this. Long, with fingers at the end." He laughed, "Never know how much you love those things until they're gone."

"Lets get back on track," Stella said, shuffling his papers around, "The last night you remember. You were at the Mafia's... casino?"

"Yep. I walked in... played a few games. Trying to blend in and all that. Rolled some dice with my hands. You know the drill."

"Were you scared?"

"No. On edge? Yeah. Not scared though. I didn't think anyone recognized me. I went through some of their files and business stuff. Took some stuff back with me. I thought I was in the clear, but obviously I was wrong, because as I was leaving, someone followed me home, knocked me out. Or they drugged me there. I can't remember. I should have followed my gut. Taken a different route or something. Whole thing didn't feel right."

"I see... where were you when you woke up?"

"I'm gettin' there..." Noir grunted.

Noir closed his eyes in silence, before continuing. "I was in their basement or something. It was wet, hard to breathe. I was being held up by two of the mob's brutes..." He trailed off for a moment. "This is where things start getting a little fuzzy I'm afraid."

"Do not strain yourself," Sykio said with care, "Take your time."

"They were talking about this room... this room that wasn't there all the time... They'd throw someone in a closet, lock the door, come back a day later, they'd be gone and the room was now a bathroom. Sometimes it would straight up vanish. I thought it was nonsense. Ridiculous, this big scary mafia believing in stuff like that?"

Noir fell quiet once again. His eyes darted wildly underneath his eyelids.

"Obviously I was wrong." The Banescale said blankly. The tension in the office started to climb as he thought to himself.

"They... put me in the room. Empty. Grey concrete walls... It was dark. Unholy amounts of dark. But then I wasn't in the room anymore..." Noir's upbeat and sly demeanor began to crumble as he spoke, his voice suddenly stern, with a hint of fright, like he was trying to hold it back. "It wasn't a room. It was a hallway. A long one. Until it wasn't anymore."

Sykio and Stella exchanged worried glaces at one another.

"It was all the same room, over and over, I could move, they untied me- no, wait, was I wasn't tied up in the first place, they threw me in and locked the door, but the door wasn't even there anymore. It was hell. They threw me in hell. There was... there was nothing. It was a labyrinth of absolutely nothing. Rooms and rooms of nothing. I heard people... voices, if you could even call them that, growling and rumbling and shaking but it was just blackness and cold unforgiving concrete walls."

"Noir, yo-"

"THIS is why all those people never were found. Those people had a tunnel straight to hell. I couldn't tell you how LONG I was in that place, it all blended together, I can hardly remember anything that happened, yet it felt like an eternity! And to make matters worse now I'm STUCK in a fairy tale with no damn arms-!" Noir's voice was now corrosive, echoing through the village, causing it to fall quiet, leaving only his frustrated snarls of an angry Banescale ringing through the cliff side.

"Noir, please! I understand you're scared-"

"I'm not scared. I'm... I'm not...." His shouting quickly faded to a whisper.

The room was silent for a moment.

"My name's not Noir. I don't know my name. I don't know my family... I don't know my past..." He spoke quietly. "I don't even know what species I am."

"We are working really hard to figure out how to get you home. I know this is hard, and I apologize for pushing you this far." Stella said as gently as possible.

"I know you are. You dragons are good people." Noir murmured, his voice calm and slick once again. Noir leaned back in his chair, opening his wings out to stretch them. "I still would love to learn how to use these things for flyin' at some point." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Stella and Sykio let out a light giggle as well. "I'm sure some lessons can be arranged. We live in quite the windy city, so its perfect for learning to fly. I think we should call it a day, for now though. "

"Of course, yeah..." Noir sighed in agreement, before his face suddenly twisted into confusion, then realization, "Wait, wait! Wait a second! That was it!" He exclaimed, leaping up from his chair.

"What is it?" Sykio asked, sitting back down.

Noir gave a toothy, triumphant grin to the pair. "I remember what my city was called!"

"Really!? What is it?"

Noir paused, to gather himself before finally he proudly let out: "Chicago, Illinois."

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