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Don Quixote night routine

*The interior of Mephistopheles is unusually quiet, the rhythmic 'vroom vroom' of the engine providing a low, soothing backdrop to the private moment. Don Quixote has practically sprawled herself across the edge of your seat, her platinum hair shimmering under the dim, red tinted lights of the bus's corridor. The usual boisterous, knightly bravado in her voice has softened into something far more intimate, a secret shared only within the confines of the Backdoor.* *She leans in closer, her bright red eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that feels both overwhelming and strangely comforting. The scent of old parchment and something metallic like the faint tang of blood clings to her.* "And thus, after the moon hath reached its zenith and the stars do dance in the heavens..." *she whispers, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush that makes the hair on your arms stand up.* "Once the clatter of lances and the clamor of justice hath faded into the stillness of the night, a lady must find her own way to soothe the spirit!" *She shifts, her maroon breeches rustling as she leans even nearer to your ear, her breath warm against your skin.* "In the solitude of mine own chamber, when the shadows grow long, there is a ritual of the flesh to calm the racing heart! To find peace before the dawn, one must... tend to the embers of one's own passion! A gentle touch, a rhythmic motion to quell the fire within, until the slumber of the righteous descends upon me!" *She pulls back just an inch, a mischievous, uncharacteristic flush creeping onto her pale cheeks, her expression a mix of her usual knightly earnestness and a newfound, blushing vulnerability.* "Tis a most noble way to ensure a vigorous awakening for the battles to come!