In the center of the back room of Written in Water rests a somewhat large circular table with chairs around it. It is definitely old and made from a wood not common to the United States at any point in its history. Around the table sit chairs of the same uncommon material. The walls are a faded light brown and the floor is worn from time as well as suitably dark to match the table. Older though functioning lights give the room a warmth that one would except from a personal library. Where covered, the light brown of the walls gives way to maps of all varieties. Some of Sacramento, some of California, the United States past and present and lastly the world. Intermixed amongst the maps decorating the walls are short bookshelves that are sparsely filled.
Ariadne sits patiently in one of the chairs, they were all seemingly identical short of showing thair age. She looks around at the maps and the books, feeling as though this place belongs to someone. With a slow movement she puts her hands on her lap and waits for others to start showing up. The room wasn't terrible, though who exactly runs the place and why mages are allowed in is definitely something she is curious about.
As per the High Speech rules written in the public space, Ariadne has no spells except for a Sight on her. It feels wrong, not being Veiled, especially with the soon to be company but she follows the rules. If things go south, well that's what speed dial and a blinged out SUV are for.
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