Siren's Pull

[Diego sits on his couch, looking over a rather large stack of paperwork set on the end table to his left. In front of him, the coffee table holds six white ceramic mugs, all in addition to the one mug he is sipping out of.]

February has that way of changing the scenery-- a little dimmer than January, but a bit easier to navigate than the hustle and the bustle of the holidays. A white carpet, tinged gray, rolled out on the way to spring.

[...whatever that means. He takes a sip.] Quite a few new souls floating around our little corner of paradise, lately. Such a gathering from different worlds and times... so I figured I might as well make an introduction just in case anybody was confused.

[A timed, dramatic pause.] Prosecutor Diego Armando. And I'm the man you'll be pleading with eventually if you run afoul of the law around here.

[He sits up, gesturing to the massive stack of papers beside him.] This is what it looks like on my end when Newcomers get themselves in trouble. If I find your name on my desk, you're lucky-- you're not going to be ground to pieces by the system that hates you because of where you come from. I'll grant you a fair trial.

But that's all I'll grant you. I don't do favors, and I don't go easy. I especially don't want to see your name on my desk. You play nice, you stay out of trouble and mind the law-- however unfair you may feel it to be. If you need clarification, you can ask me or any other lawyer crawling around the city and we'll be happy to give you an explanation. And we won't even charge you for it.

[He grins, then sips from his coffee cup, long and lovingly. As he finishes the gulp he lowers the mug, swirls it once or twice and seems to be... communing with it as he swallows.]

On a more pleasant note, I've ground up a fresh batch of Blend #33, "The Black Rose of Passion." It's a dark roast, sublime in body, bitter and sweet all together with a finish of rose hips and cinnamon. Fine in an affogato, beautiful au lait, or perfect pitch black and pure-- a shadowy mistress as tender as a kitten and sharp as a knife... not unlike romance. Ha...!

If you're looking for a last-minute offering for a certain holiday tomorrow, I'm selling 20-ounce bags for a meager $10 each. Let me know if you're interested.

[A pause, then he glances at the camera and his smile quirks.]

Though you will follow the instructions I include with the bag, or you might as well brew a cup of dirt.