INBOX.

[saam]

Comments

action!

[sulahnan]

Some early morning when there isn't much ado in the dining hall, the smell of baked goods wafts in through the window to the Diplomacy Office. It might just be that the kitchens are working hard on quickbreads for the morning meal, or it might be that some enterprising elf has gone out, bought freshly baked sweets, and decided to share.

Why she scaled the outside of the building to get to the office window rather than taking the stairs and knocking on the door is unknown as yet.

But she's out there, holding the wrapped shell-bread and spice-twists and whatnot aloft as if they're her puppets and she's the puppeteer hiding behind the pop-up stage.

[saam]

Eshal walks into the office, and something's off. She's been half-expecting an attack for a while now; if the Qun figures out she's Karasten, Unit 326, KIA in Seheron, they'd probably send someone to clean her off the carpet. She tenses, and then...

"Athessa, what the fuck!"

[sulahnan]

Her head pops up into view in the window, and she grins, then scrambles a little less gracefully than usual into the office. "I had a hunch," she starts, digging through the parcel of baked goods and lobbing a sweetbread towards Eshal. "That you'd like these as much as I do."

She looks around for the best place to sit and chooses whatever seems softest, plopping herself down and heaving a sigh like she'd just scaled a building or something. Oh wait.

"I also wanted to know how hard it'd be to climb up here. It's not easy."

[saam]

"Well, yeah. It's supposed to be hard to storm." Eshal shakes her head. "Odd little thing, you are. Don't do that again; someone might think you're a really shit assassin and shoot you down."

[sulahnan]

"'Kay. That's a fair point," she concedes easily. She did it once and that's all that matters, really. She bites into a loaf with a crackly, crumbly topping, catching the crumbs in her hand so she can funnel them into her mouth instead of letting them fall anywhere. What she really wants is about five gallons of water to chug, mouth dry as all get-out, but she doesn't have five gallons of water. She has pastries and the munchies.

"Have you met our tallest recruit?"

crystal.

[ipseite]

I must apologise for the delay in reaching out, though I expect I don't need to belabor the point of how busy we all are. ( it's wry, rather than passive aggressive; commiserating. she's had eshal's job, she knows. ) Did you still wish to acquaint ourselves? I am, for all my primary work answering to our Scoutmaster, yet a member of your division.

[saam]

It's fine, it's fine, everything's on fucking fire lately anyway. Hey, what's your poison? Ale or rum?

[So diplomatic. She's not, actually, drunk, she'd just like to be.]

Come up to my place and we'll chat. If you want. I wanna get to know everybody better.

to the actionmobile.

[ipseite]

I'd like that very much, ambassador. I shall join you shortly, and I am more than happy to bring the wine.

( mild, but—well, she didn't only drink tea when she kept the office. just mostly, in company. petrana de cedoux has let her hair down maybe once in her time in thedas, it's a closely-guarded secret that she's even capable of it or has a first name.

in any event: a knock precedes her, not long after. )

vroom froom.

[saam]

Eshal is not drinking maraas-lok, then. She's sitting at her desk, calmly looking over a series of maps and making notations... in Qunlat.

She's glad to see anyone coming in to distract her, though. She smiles, and it's genuine. "Petrana?"

crystal;

[katabasis]

Your office or mine?

[saam]

Oh, baby.

[But.]

Mine. Nicer furniture.

[He'll find her reclining with another jar of maraas-lok, the door unlocked.]

actually fuck brackets

[katabasis]

So long as it isn't crowded by her co-head or a head in a jar, then fine. As he pulls the door shut behind him:

"Tell me about the conversation you had with Kitty Jones."

thank fuck.

[saam]

Skull is spending quality time with his raven friends. Or perhaps being carried around by that weird kid. Or who the fuck knows. He's living his life the best he can.

Anyway. Eshal looks up from the couch chair she'd secreeted herself onto with a scrunched look. "Do I have to?"

But obviously she does. Sometimes she just likes to add color. "I asked questions. And I know I can be fucking... blunt? But I didn't call her a cunt or insult her mother, and she's a rifter, so I've never fucked anyone in her family. I dunno what her problem was, but she went loose on me. I'm glad as shit she isn't my problem; I'd probably have to do a mercy kill when she tried to fight a statue."

action that i fully expect to be 5 tags long and that's it;

[katabasis]

There are only so many ways to reach the higher levels of the tower and the division offices. That they haven't run directly into one another before this point is definitive proof of the divine.

He is climbing up the stairs and she is going down them.

sorry if it's shorter.

[saam]

She sees him. She stares for a moment, but refuses to be stopped short by the sight. He is a little man. She can see that now, and it has nothing to do with height or perspective.

"Hands!"

irl laugh

[katabasis]

He sees her. He doesn't stare and has forgotten what it's like to be drawn short by much of anything.

But for the record, that does it - breeds some flicker of bewilderment and irritation that has him shifting from the center of the stairwell to one side as he continues climbing. What? say the crooked lines of his expression, though the word isn't actually voiced.

sorry about this.

[saam]

It gets what needs done. His hands are off the railing. She hefts herself onto the side, back facing the wall. She slides down quickly, spending as little time in his presence as possible.

As she goes, she clearly murmurs, "don't even wanna fuckin' look at you right now."

[tender]

Eshal? Can I talk to you about something that might be sensitive?

[saam]

Of course, Honey. Is the office alright, or someplace else better?

[And That's How Derrica Got Her Nickname.]

[tender]

I can come to your office. It's related to your work, so that's probably the best place.

[ also doesn't want to be an inconvenience, etc, etc. knocks on the door about fifteen minutes later ]

hello my name is prose.

[saam]

Eshal is at her desk, as ever. "It's unlocked!" She calls. Seeing it's Derrica, she adds, "but lock it behind you, why don't'cha."

action?

[writteninblood]

[Sorrel is a man prone to deliberately not encountering terrifyingly large and/or muscular humans, if he can avoid it. He also knows how to bake dainty little pastries filled with pulpy jam. These two facts have found confluence in this, the Secret Satinalia gift; a basket of pastries he is currently leaving in front of Eshal's door. They are warm and fragrant and dusted with sugar, all snuggled in safe under their linen cover.

There is also an elf.]

Uh.

[Sorrel very clearly did not expect to be caught in the act of delivering his gift. He is not entirely sure he is going to survive this encounter. He is considering, almost visibly, something very stupid, like throwing out a screen of fire, or simply throwing the basket at her head and running. He is not a very quick thinker, our Sorrelean.]

...h-happy Satinalia?

[Nailed it.]

crystal to action

[skulltasm]

[ Skull's voice--not an impersonation--emits from Eshal's crystal. ]

I DID NOT APPRECIATE YOUR LITTLE SATINALIA JAPE.

[saam]

But you earned it, you been working so hard.

[skulltasm]

I EARNED THE ONUS OF COMING UP WITH A GIFT FOR A STRANGER?! WHATEVER DID I DO TO DESERVE SUCH A THOUGHTFUL GESTURE?