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Oct. 3rd, 2024 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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vivalaA. Dirty Jobs [Elysium]
Despite the attack on the Corsair stronghold, it seems like it is business as usual in Elysium. Anyone who either is stationed in Elysium or have to be there on business may recognize Thomas from his trips to the Vault or on the network. He is following after a somewhat short brown-haired human man with a sour expression and a level of haughtiness that only a noble could possess. Thomas on his part is walking quickly, his hands constantly moving to write things down, shoulders hunched up, eyes darting constantly, and when he spots a fellow member of the Corsairs, he shook his head quickly, trying to ward them off from approaching him.
The man's voice carries as he speaks, clear and brusque. "Note the recent acquisitions in Elysium, I suspect certain people will have the gall to blackmail their betters, or worse blackmail peers! The coffee house near the Hall of Enlightenment, have you learned of who bought it?"
"Yes, Lord Tarquin. A Simone Wyatt is on the de... deed, but it is a proxy name, Lady D-de-de-deidre Savidge is the real owner of the..." Thomas pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing, speaking slowly. "Dancing Drop."
The man pauses, turning to look directly at the young man, the sour look deepens. "Thomas, do work on that wretched stutter. No one will take you seriously. Thank the Divine that stutter doesn't carry to your penmanship."
"...Yes sir." Thomas' voice was barely a whisper as he lowers his head. "I will work on it."
"Good boy." The noble nods sharply. "Really, a stutter would make it look like I have taken leave of my senses and decide to have bumpkin for a... secretary. And stand up straight! Now boy, keep tabs on Savidge's land purchases - that wretched hen is up to something, and I aim to pull the rug out from under her. By the by, what time is it?"
"Half past three, Lord Tarquin - you have a... private appointment at quarter past four."
"Then I need to ready. You're excused for now - meet me back at the ship at five and make sure that the crew will have dinner set out." With that, Tarquin Lowma turns on his heel and disappear into the crowd.
Once the man is out of earshot, Thomas let out a groan of frustration as he buries his face in the notebook. "Uuuuggh...."
Flyby Flyers [Elysium]
At night, the city bustles, more people on the streets, and spilling out of dens of vices, but the throng of people meant that it is easier to get lost in a crowd.
A short figure in a cloak - not an uncommon sight given the amount of gallants, priests, and nobles not wanting to be publicly seen engaging in certain vices - lingers along the walls in the side streets and residential districts, pausing only long enough to leave a flyer - a map of the lands surrounding the city with big red Xes in certain spots.
The cloaked figure pauses and look around, as if expecting to be chased, darting quickly when he places he flyer up, this is a rather curious behavior - but will it warrant investigation?
Food for the Soul [Flotsam]
The mood was much more somber in Flotsam, and while he had been kept away from the flood of paperwork that spilled into the offices of the Empire, he managed to secure some time off his main job to get to Flotsam. He could be found either in the infirmary - a bell-like chime ringing in the air as green wisps surround him and the ailing corsair that he is healing.
Or he is in the kitchens of the mess hall, fussing over a very aromatic stewpot or helping to serve this dish over beans or stewed meats, often striking up conversations with children, trying to lift their spirits.
Whether he's in the mess or infirmary, he is rather subdued and pale with worry - and guilt. "Is there anything else I can do to help?" He would ask, he has to keep doing something.
D Wildcard
(bring your own ideas)
Despite the attack on the Corsair stronghold, it seems like it is business as usual in Elysium. Anyone who either is stationed in Elysium or have to be there on business may recognize Thomas from his trips to the Vault or on the network. He is following after a somewhat short brown-haired human man with a sour expression and a level of haughtiness that only a noble could possess. Thomas on his part is walking quickly, his hands constantly moving to write things down, shoulders hunched up, eyes darting constantly, and when he spots a fellow member of the Corsairs, he shook his head quickly, trying to ward them off from approaching him.
The man's voice carries as he speaks, clear and brusque. "Note the recent acquisitions in Elysium, I suspect certain people will have the gall to blackmail their betters, or worse blackmail peers! The coffee house near the Hall of Enlightenment, have you learned of who bought it?"
"Yes, Lord Tarquin. A Simone Wyatt is on the de... deed, but it is a proxy name, Lady D-de-de-deidre Savidge is the real owner of the..." Thomas pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing, speaking slowly. "Dancing Drop."
The man pauses, turning to look directly at the young man, the sour look deepens. "Thomas, do work on that wretched stutter. No one will take you seriously. Thank the Divine that stutter doesn't carry to your penmanship."
"...Yes sir." Thomas' voice was barely a whisper as he lowers his head. "I will work on it."
"Good boy." The noble nods sharply. "Really, a stutter would make it look like I have taken leave of my senses and decide to have bumpkin for a... secretary. And stand up straight! Now boy, keep tabs on Savidge's land purchases - that wretched hen is up to something, and I aim to pull the rug out from under her. By the by, what time is it?"
"Half past three, Lord Tarquin - you have a... private appointment at quarter past four."
"Then I need to ready. You're excused for now - meet me back at the ship at five and make sure that the crew will have dinner set out." With that, Tarquin Lowma turns on his heel and disappear into the crowd.
Once the man is out of earshot, Thomas let out a groan of frustration as he buries his face in the notebook. "Uuuuggh...."
Flyby Flyers [Elysium]
At night, the city bustles, more people on the streets, and spilling out of dens of vices, but the throng of people meant that it is easier to get lost in a crowd.
A short figure in a cloak - not an uncommon sight given the amount of gallants, priests, and nobles not wanting to be publicly seen engaging in certain vices - lingers along the walls in the side streets and residential districts, pausing only long enough to leave a flyer - a map of the lands surrounding the city with big red Xes in certain spots.
The cloaked figure pauses and look around, as if expecting to be chased, darting quickly when he places he flyer up, this is a rather curious behavior - but will it warrant investigation?
Food for the Soul [Flotsam]
The mood was much more somber in Flotsam, and while he had been kept away from the flood of paperwork that spilled into the offices of the Empire, he managed to secure some time off his main job to get to Flotsam. He could be found either in the infirmary - a bell-like chime ringing in the air as green wisps surround him and the ailing corsair that he is healing.
Or he is in the kitchens of the mess hall, fussing over a very aromatic stewpot or helping to serve this dish over beans or stewed meats, often striking up conversations with children, trying to lift their spirits.
Whether he's in the mess or infirmary, he is rather subdued and pale with worry - and guilt. "Is there anything else I can do to help?" He would ask, he has to keep doing something.
D Wildcard
(bring your own ideas)
Re: Dirty Jobs
Date: 2024-10-06 08:34 pm (UTC)"Thanks for trying to warn me," he started, gesturing to where the smudge was.
Re: Dirty Jobs
Date: 2024-10-07 09:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-10-20 03:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-10-21 08:48 am (UTC)Appearances must matter even more with that boss. Hopefully that man wasn't about to come back.
"My name's Atom," he introduces himself. "Mr...?"
Technically he heard the name 'Thomas' said, but he doesn't want to make it awkward and remind him that multiple extra people could hear the scene. Besides, some bad bosses don't even get their employees' names correct. It happened often to robot workers. Better be sure.