Art shrugged. "Sure."
He abruptly turned and marched into the hotel.
The lobby was big and looked quite high-class. Obscenely large potted plants lined the walls, standing at regular intervals. Reproductions of famous artworks were displayed on many available wall spaces. False colums appeared to be "supporting" the ceiling.
But Art's attention was on the reception desk. A young, slender man stood behind the desk, dressed in a lavish purple suit. He was talking on the phone, and by the sounds of it, he was arguing with someone.
Art pretended to take much interest in the artwork ... when a thought occurred to him. If there were security cameras in here, wouldn't they be suspicious of a guy who came in, stood around, and then began posing as a clerk? (ooc: possible foreshadowing?)
Whatever. Art decided it would be easier to trust Drakko than to go back out and question him.
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