PASSION:
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BRAVERY:
11
FRIENDSHIP:
15
Friendly Mafia Man
Tragnario
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Jul 4, 2017 12:17:10 GMT -7
via mobile
Post by Tristan Carter on Jul 4, 2017 12:17:10 GMT -7
If the Mafia obtains blackmail material on a person, it's usually a good sign of one of two things: that the person in question should reconsider continuing their activities, or they should find a better way to hide them. Of course, either way, it would be far too late for either option to actually do any good. Once the information was out there, it wasn't going away any time soon. Tristan imagined that it was likely better for the blackmailed party to simply adjust to their new role as an asset of the family.
Tristan had been sent by Alighieri to try and buy off a certain police captain. Should he have failed to agree with reasonable terms, a manilla envelope was to come into play. Tristan hadn't seen the contents of the envelope, but he knew what it pertained to. The captain was involved with Flourish; Alighieri had made sure that Tristan knew, as it made the man potentially dangerous. He didn't know the exact details, but that was fine. They were unessential anyway. All that mattered was getting the man on board.
Tristan had never actually been inside the Central Police Station before. He'd done everything he could to avoid their attention ever since he was old enough to understand that it would be bad for them to pay attention to him. Once inside, he was more nervous than he had been since his first trip to the jungle. Still, he had a job to do. A cop with connections to Flourish was a useful resource, and he couldn't screw up in securing that resource for the family.
All he needed to do was get to one Captain Prophia's office. Sounded easy enough.
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PASSION:
15
BRAVERY:
12
FRIENDSHIP:
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The heart will never lead you astray
Robin
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Jul 5, 2017 22:20:31 GMT -7
Post by Etude Amaryllis on Jul 5, 2017 22:20:31 GMT -7
Paperwork was an inevitable part of life. It was an ever growing force, looming in the back of her workload and in the far corner of her desk, and one of the most common reasons for her to be at the station at any kind of reasonable hour. There were only so many days she could spend in a row counting straightening the pile as working on her paperwork before deadlines came to light the fire under her feet, and she had to give in, sit down, and just get it all done.
There’d been several reports she really couldn’t afford to acknowledge only in the side of her eye any more, so she’d spent her day doing just that. After three fruit smoothies, one broken pen to add to the collection, and several hours trying painfully not to get distracted by asking her coworkers about their days, the last stroke of ink was done and had successfully completed her stack of hastily thrown together reports. Etude slapped her pen down on her desk like she’d just written the last line to her magnum opus. Such an occasion called for the brightly colored paper clamps she’d bought for exactly that reason, and once carefully put together and stacked, she proudly gathered up her work in both arms and went off to find the next set of desks she was supposed to hand the paperwork off to.
In the case of these particular desks, it was considerably faster to cross through the front lobby than wind her way through the hallways of cubicles and private offices. As she entered the room at a pace just barely slow enough to be considered a walk, she spotted a fellow who looked a slight bit lost. And she thought she’d have to wait until she got back out into the field to get back to real work.
Putting on a friendly smile, she turned course (taking a couple steps backwards as she had passed him) and approached the man. “Hello, citizen! Can I help you with something?”
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PASSION:
12
BRAVERY:
11
FRIENDSHIP:
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Friendly Mafia Man
Tragnario
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Posts: 40
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Jul 6, 2017 0:25:32 GMT -7
Post by Tristan Carter on Jul 6, 2017 0:25:32 GMT -7
Tristan was more than a bit confused on how to best proceed. He couldn't linger for too long in the lobby, that was for sure, but he hadn't fully realized that he had no idea of where he was going until he had arrived. Would it be wise to ask for directions, or would that make him more memorable? Should he wander around and try and find it himself, or would that raise too many questions; would he even be able to attempt it in the first place? He'd spent the past few years trying his hardest to stay out of the CPS. Now that he was there with an important task, he couldn't help but feel a mild sense of panic.
By the grace of all that was good, though, he was saved from his paralysis by a passing officer. It was almost as though he had been given a sign from above. A quick glance revealed that she was certainly shiny enough to pass for one. He was either dealing with a magic-user or someone with an unhealthy obsession with glitter, and yet, either way, they were potentially better than the alternative. Thanks to developing magic early, Tristan had been spared the details of how specific career assignment was. For instance, he had no idea if people were assigned the job of being receptionists on the basis of how well they recognized faces. Probably not, but it was probably better to not risk it. Besides, he'd been given a bright, shiny personification of his good fortune. He'd have to be a fool to ignore it.
"Actually, yes, if that'd be okay, miss," he said, certain that he was making the right choice. After all, she referred to him as "citizen". That implied she was gung ho about her job, and any cop that was gung ho about being a cop would jump at the chance to assist someone in need. The odds were definitely in his favor, unknown magic or no. "Could you perhaps give me directions to Captain Prophia's office, or workstation, or something? I have an urgent message I'm supposed to give them, their eyes only."
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PASSION:
15
BRAVERY:
12
FRIENDSHIP:
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The heart will never lead you astray
Robin
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Jul 6, 2017 16:59:35 GMT -7
Post by Etude Amaryllis on Jul 6, 2017 16:59:35 GMT -7
“Captain Prophia?” She only interacted with him on rare occasion - when she was temporarily assigned to help with one of his cases or the coffee maker on his floor was out were the most common excuses - but she did remember the man in question and where to find him. It was a little hard to forget walking into an office with three potted trees and so stuffed with vines it was a tripping hazard.
Why this fellow wanted to give the captain a message, on the other hand, she was a lot less certain. Wouldn’t it just be faster to hand whatever it was off to a secretary with the same statement of ‘don’t open other people’s mail’? Though easing someone else’s workload was respectable. She assumed whatever he had to be a lead for an investigation or something of the kind, as there wasn’t much else she could think of that a law abiding citizen (she didn’t recognize him so obviously he didn’t work here) would have. It’d have to be pretty important for only a single captain to be able to see it, and he’d have to know a lot about about things he may not be supposed to know if he could point out the one set of eyes it was good for. But, Captain Porphia seemed like a clever person. Maybe this guy was Porphia’s spy. New spy recruit, given he didn’t know the way to Porphia’s office.
Either way, she was perfectly happy to help. “He’s six floors up, in the back left corner with all the windows. His office is a little hard to miss - you can see one of his trees through the door’s pane - but it’s a little hard to find.”
She paced towards him in preperation of what she knew was going to be a long explanation. Shouting directions from across the room wasn’t effective communication. “First you’ll want to head through that door there. It’s a quick turn to a right, then take your next left. It’s the one with the really long hallway with cubicles on either side. You’ll want to keep down that until you reach Martha’s desk, B012 - it’s the one with the picture of her child that takes up half of one of the walls - and go through the door that’s between her and the empty cubical ahead. Go straight down that hallway,” she was making gestures with her hands, “until you can make a right turn and open the door that says ‘telephone services’. It’ll be an open room, but you’re looking for the hallway leading off in the far right corner. Down that, you’ll find yourself in-” several hallways of cloned cubicles, followed by an elevator and several more hallways of cloned doors. Directions to a good coffee shop or the tram station were easy; directions through an office building with stretches distinguishable from each other only by the numbers on the doors she only half remembered and people's’ preferences in paperweights had a high likelihood of landing the man off course and somewhere restricted. Accidentally stumbling into a room full of classified material was probably not the end result this fellow was looking for, and she had easy means of preventing it from happening.
“You know what, why don’t I just take you there? It’s on my way.” She said, already making for the door across the room.
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PASSION:
12
BRAVERY:
11
FRIENDSHIP:
15
Friendly Mafia Man
Tragnario
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Posts: 40
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Aug 22, 2017 22:25:38 GMT -7
via mobile
Post by Tristan Carter on Aug 22, 2017 22:25:38 GMT -7
Tristan nodded in understanding as the officer approached, trying his best to keep his look of amusement to himself. It made sense that a Flourish plant would decorate his office with greenery. It was staring every officer who dealt with him right in the face, and yet the fact that he still held his position meant that nobody had caught on yet. The irony of it wasn't lost on Tristan, though; even so, he was there to find a way to profit off of keeping that information secret.
As the officer started giving the complicated directions just to get to the elevator, Tristan's expression quickly shifted to a blank stare. It wasn't that he wasn't taking in the convoluted instructions (he was no architect, but he was fairly certain that there had to have been a place for the elevators that was less off the beaten path), but rather that he was quickly realizing that he may have miscalculated his chances. He was still probably better off with Officer Sparkles than a receptionist, but the odds of being forgotten about soon after dwindled with every turn, and she hadn't even gotten to the elevators yet. To say that he was getting increasingly nervous would have been a "mild" understatement.
When she stopped suddenly, he could have sworn that his heart stopped for a moment. There was no possible way that it was a sign of anything good. Of course, as luck would have it, he was only half right. Being led there personally practically ensured that she'd be able to pick him from a lineup, but he'd definitely be able to get to Prophia's office in time to be able to attend to some other tasks while he was out, assuming things went well. Besides, the officer made it clear that she wasn't expecting to hear "no", given how she was already leading the way.
"Oh, um, okay then," he said, still recovering slightly from the small fright. He quickly caught up and, after a moment of thought, spoke up again, this time with his usual degree of confidence. "So, officer, do you have a name? Or should I just refer to you as Officer Sparkle 'til the end of time?"
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