It's 8AM on Saturday morning at the convention hotel restaurant and Maria Marten sits at a table by herself. Headband with cute perky brown ears sticking up over her natural brown hair, brushy tail attached to her skirt's belt wrapped around her left side and sitting by her thigh. A deliberate choice of a table with a view, looking out over the avenue where the city's recovery team is breaking up the wreckage of the Iron Demon King's fallen machine and repairing the roadway. She smiles and sips her coffee, a job well done and no-one the wiser.
"Would you like a cheque or room charge this morning?" Her server asks, setting a steaming plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, homestyle fried potatoes, and a fresh fruit cup down before her.
"Oh," she looks up and smiles. "Room charge please, 308." She pulls her room key out of the little pocket hanging from the lanyard that holds a few pins, her convention ID, her laminated custom badge, and her "Certified Marten" tag. "Thank you so much, this looks wonderful."
The server stares at her badge for a moment, then nods quickly. "Th-thank you, we'll get that taken care of for you." They set her orange juice down and leave without taking the room key card.
"Hey you forgot... okay." She shrugs and sets the key down, digging into breakfast. A hard night of fighting makes for a hungry morning. At least she got some sleep. No rest for the righteous though, not five minutes later none other than the hotel & convention center's general manager takes a seat at her table. Maria looks up from her eggs & sausage, recognizing the face of the person introduced at the convention's opening ceremony. "Uhm, hi?"
The manager glances between her badge and her unmasked face. "Maria, right?"
"Yeah?"
"The hotel owners and all the staff would like to extend their gratitude to... uhm..." The manager leans forward and lowers their voice. "Magical Master Miguel, yes?"
She freezes a moment, eyes locked on the manager, and deflects. "You're kidding, right?" She laughs dismissively. "Craziest thing I've heard all week."
The manager takes out their phone and pulls something up, setting the device down and sliding it face-up across the table. "We'd like to comp your hotel expenses." They speak in hushed tones. "As a measure of gratitude, for saving not just the hotel, but the whole city block... It's the least we can do."
Maria looks down at the manager's phone, with a clean photo pulled up on (social media site). Indeed, Magical Master Miguel in clear view standing triumphantly upon the hulk of iron outside the night before, in their crisp silver-threaded classical Verdadera Destreza garb, mask in place, long crimson feather in their hat drifting in the breeze, with the Iron Demon King lying at their feet at the point of their magical Crimson Rapier. ...with a convention lanyard fluttering out of their ruffled shirt. Her convention ID and custom character badge perfectly in focus thanks to the glut of high resolution digital photography equipment at the convention. The smiling face of Maria Marten right there on the Magical Master's chest, same as the one on her lanyard.
"...shit." She sighs a moment. "Please be normal about this, I swear I'm supposed to be on vacation..."
