A Day at the Office

A Day at the Office

Postby Treadwell » Wed Jul 17, 2013 4:56 am

Seventeenth day of the seventh month, 213, just after lunch.

Regardless of his personal feelings for the Kaczmareks and their unsanctioned building or Rhaena Burnie or the other Councilors or the Governor at the moment, Aloisius Treadwell still has his job as Councilor of Revenue and Finance to uphold. Thus it is that, after breakfast, a snack, and lunch, he hefts himself to his feet and ambles lazily over to the Meetinghouse, there to wobble straight to his office, quietly lock the office door behind him, and begin the usual task of filling in charts and lines about who's paid how much to their wonderful government.

Aloisius prefers to work in silence and solitude by nature.

He much prefers working in silence and solitude whenever Rhaena and her sheep are anywhere remotely nearby in the same province.
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Rance » Wed Jul 17, 2013 2:28 pm

Silence and solitude were ephemeral things. They could be broken by the slightest noise, the faintest sliver of sound.

As the heavy taxman tucked into his work -- the charts and graphs, the mathematical representations of value and economy, the little lives of little people turned to little numbers on little papers -- he might have found solace and comfort in utility. He might have thought he was able to entirely disconnect himself -- at least within his office -- from Rhaena Olwak and her flock of loyals--

--but that did not keep a single pebble from interrupting Treadwell's moment.

A crack against his office's tall window. The tiny stone struck it from the outside, thrown with vigor enough to chime against the glass, but not to shatter it or leave a mark.

And if for a moment Aloisius Treadwell thought it was a happenstance, a chipped piece of cobble tossed up by an errant carriage-wheel?

There was another. And then another.

Someone outside was very accurate with their pebbles.
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Treadwell » Wed Jul 17, 2013 2:49 pm

A snort. A frown. A brief grunt as he shuffles himself from his chair. . . and takes the few steps to ensure that his office door is locked.

Then, cane taken in hand, across the floor he goes, peering out through the heavy, thick glass, not opening up the window yet as he peeks this way and that in search of the offending rock thrower.

There he stands, resembling a great, round grape in his purple robe and floofy purple hat.
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Rance » Wed Jul 17, 2013 3:06 pm

Beauregard Street bustled with activity. Candle-sellers, fruit-bearers, basket-weavers, all shouting to passers-by that they might find interest in the goods they sold. Treadwell's window was a visual connection to all that existed in Myrken's economic world, as if from it he might be able to oversee the smallest slight of coin and the largest exchanges that could ever occur--

--but here, with her back to the avenue and a few pebbles lofted in her gloved hand, a girl lingered in the Meetinghouse's lawn, trying to blend as best as she could with those that wandered past her. Despite what cares were taken to keep her slatted bonnet folded like a screen across her cheeks, the structure of her body did not lie.

A teenager. Firm of shoulder, wide of hip, a chin and a cheek that caught the sun and shone like desert copper.

When she saw a dash of purple and the billow of smoke distorted in the uneven glass, she let the pebbles fall from her fingers, lifted her skirt in her bare hand, looked left, looked right, then approached the window with zeal. Maybe there was volume to her voice. Maybe there wasn't. The walls and glass were thick.

Open the window, Gloria Wynsee slowly mouthed. The next word was more visible, the lips drawn tight, the blunted teeth and all their natural disrepair fully visible.

Please?
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Treadwell » Wed Jul 17, 2013 3:11 pm

One of the larger panels can be opened, with a little difficulty thanks to the heat's slow warping of the windowframe. Soon, though, Tready stands there with window opened and smoke puff-puffing from the pipe in his mouth.

"Well, dearie? Come in, mmph mmph!"

Cane is put briefly aside as both hands are offered to try to help with her climbing in the building.
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Rance » Thu Jul 18, 2013 1:26 am

When the window moaned against its rails and opened to admit her, she clapped her palms into his, planted a boot on the side of the building -- the leather was new, still creaking, stinking of rubbed oil -- and hoisted herself. Her skin was warm and grimed from sweat, callused by needlepoint and old labor.

Even with Treadwell's assistance, she was no acrobatic, no tower of physical finesse. She was a stout girl. At times, a clumsy one. With a little exertion and the hefty councilor's aid, she scrambled her knees up onto the windowsill, slid a leg from underneath dusty skirts, and poured rather gracelessly to the floor.

"It -- it is not the most choreographed entrance," she gasped, the black wetness on her brow smeared with the back of her gloved left hand as she took to her feet. "But I would prefer not to -- to hassle the fellows at the front entryway. And, with due respect, Councilor, you and I have had a history chequered," Duquesne might have been proud of her use of the word; she certainly was, "with subterfuge.

"Things go oddly as of late," the seamstress said, reaching with purpose toward her satchel. "And I believe that -- that my apology to you is well overdue. If you will hear me on it."

And as if she'd not just crawled in through a Meetinghouse window, she teased up a corner of her patchwork skirt, flared its edge, and bent her knee in a very proper courtesy. The old niceties -- those not tainted by laces and frill, but stationed instead in the simple traditions of a lesser to her authority -- were best obeyed, after all. She lingered with chin dipped and eyes to the floor, awaiting permission to ease--

--and trying not to gaze at him in wonder at his enormity, his sheer volume, as a gawking child might.
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Treadwell » Thu Jul 18, 2013 3:33 am

Treadwell chortles merrily after he helps Gloria into the room. The window is closed, and the big-bellied taxman returns the curtsey with a bow before he sinks into his office chair, waving Gloria toward a seat of her own. Floppy arms flump onto his gut, and fat fingers wiggle a little to drum against his purple-robed girth.

"Do have a seat, Gloria, hmm hmm? Are you hungry? I can fetch us something." A wave, instead, now toward a cabinet to the right as his belly burbles in accompaniment. "I think we both know, hee hee, that I could always eat, mmph mmph! But, otherwise," he wheezes for a moment to recover breath, "please, sit, love, and talk."
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Rance » Thu Jul 18, 2013 6:02 am

She waited for him to sit first, then quickly took the seat that was offered to her. She sat as Duquesne had taught her, with a straight spine and with her feet only a few inches apart -- if they were too close, if they left no room at all between them, the posture would look forced, too obedient.

"A bite to eat would be fine, Messa," she said, though her stomach had been ebellious lately, so swollen from fear and discomfort that it had encumbered her appetite. To turn down his kindness would be to disrespect him. And she'd done far more than enough of that in her short stint in Myrken Wood.

With a wary flick of her eyes toward the deadbolt of the room -- it was locked, closed, and they were surely alone -- she said, "I came to you during your recovery and threatened you when you were vulnerable. I invaded your privacy, forcefully entered the -- the sanctuary of your rest, and spoke threats to you.

"In Jernoah, I would be staked to the Glass Sand for even thinking of such a thing. It would take days. The tar--" she displayed a black-smudged finger moist with the dark sweat she'd drawn off her brown, "--would only suffice for a day or two before it would begin to boil. And -- and I would blister. And burn. A very slow death." She glanced down to the floor between her feet. "Thank you for your mercy.

"Mister Catch may be a -- a handful. He has given me much," and taken some; taken more than I wish to admit, she thought, "but I returned that charity poorly by -- by engaging you at the Rememdium as I did."

With a blood-stained dress-scrap covering her face. With violent words, promises of harm and death. With a little glass knife.

She traced a fingertip around the squared edges of a colorful patch along her knee.

"I wanted to know how -- how you have fared. Since then," Gloria said. "Since the stitches."
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Treadwell » Thu Jul 18, 2013 3:24 pm

"Mmph! Stay right here!" To his feet Treadwell huffs and shuffles, a hand quickly finding rest on his belly once he stands. Stooped some without the aid of his cane, he plods over to the cabinet in question, soon returning with a plate of small, cleanly cut ham and cheese sandwiches and a couple of mugs of tea made earlier in the morning and left to sit in the cabinet. This is all set on its own serving tray next to the desk, in easy reach of them both.

"And dearie, all is well. There's no lasting harm, hmm hmm, and my belly's quite fine. I, err, had some help, you might say, in seeing the stitches closed up safely. Would you care to see? There's, hmm hmm, not a shred of evidence that there was ever sewing done."

There he stands by the desk, his back to the window, his hands on his gut, a grin on his fleshy face.
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Rance » Fri Jul 19, 2013 1:39 am

"No -- no, ser. I do not think that it would--"

A welcome mug of tea was bobbled, slipped from her fingers as if they had been startled by his question. She did not spill it, but almost-- a droplet or two threatened to bounce over its rim, but the seamstress managed to to recover it with some semblance of grace. And though she did not even like the taste of tea anymore -- she associated it with ladies and knights -- she slurped at it with the fervor of someone who tried all too vigorously to act with etiquette.

"I do not think it would be proper," she managed to say around the cup, "to show a girl your belly, even in the comfort of your own office. Should the guards wander in then, or curious eyes peer in through the window, it would not be your reputation put to -- to challenge, Councilman, but my own very meager one as well."

She procured one of the bready sandwiches, examined it with fleeting interest, and held it up before her eyes for inspection. Sandwiches confused her, mostly because they were altogether too much bread and too little substance. But for all of his hospitality, she could not bring herself to do anything but take a bite. Crumbs spilled to her lap.

"Would you say," the seamstress said, turning more toward him, "that -- that for all the work that was done in the Rememdium. When you were hurt. Would you say that I may have been partially responsible for saving your life, ser?"
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Treadwell » Fri Jul 19, 2013 3:32 am

Aloisius chortles and chuckles and jiggles with laughter, delighted at her response, before taking up a couple more of the tiny sandwiches in his meaty hand and slumping again into his chair.

"That's perfectly fine, my dear!" And then, voice low and mischievous, "Alice doesn't like seeing me with my robe open and tummy flopping about everywhere either, usually, mmph mmph!"

A squeeeeak vibrates forth from his seat as he wriggles about, getting comfy as he settles his bulky self properly. At her question, still a-giggle and a-ripple, Tready's usual grin only spreads and grows, just like the rest of its owner.

"As for your question, of course I would, Gloria, mmph mmph! Of course I would! Even though I am a very powerful man, hmm hmm, and even though I have many things under my command, well, hmm hmm, I certainly would have to admit to such. Why do you ask?"

Aloisius thus gives an ear-grating shlurp of his tea, setting the mug aside as he strains to grasp yet another of the little sandwiches. There are at least a couple of dozen of the triangular cut morsels on the tray, but with his voracity, one or two at a time are rapidly ending up as bouncy, fluffy, bready crumbs littering his floofy beard and his immense belly. With how he eats, is it any wonder he is so rotund and jolly?
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Rance » Sun Jul 21, 2013 3:44 pm

"I ask," the girl said, "because you are a man who knows numbers. You see? And numbers are very fair. And it is also very agreeable when numbers are balanced just right."

He laughed. He was always so jovial, it sometimes made her feel small. Small, indeed, because here he sat with his fine sandwiches and his tea, and she nibbled with little satisfaction -- he offered humors and small snacks, tea and company; she, meanwhile, could only think of the blood she'd gotten on her hands. The punch of the needle through his skin. His momentary vulnerability. How she'd tried to leverage that against him.

How here, in the lavish comforts of his office, with a white sandwich crushed between dark fingers, she thought to do the same again. But all she asked was:

"Alice," she said, speaking the name with care. "Is -- is she your lady, ser?"

She cared, that much was obvious. The question was one that needed to be asked, to humanize him. To remind her that she would stitch his wounds again, and again still, if ever she must. To realize that she hoped she never would need to, not out of a lack of fondness -- she thought him sweet, good-natured, wholly undeserving of Catch's remarkable perceptions -- but because kind men should simply not be hurt.

The seamstress looked down at her tea.

"It is a -- a very hard time here lately. Loyalties are readily challenged. Those of firm mind are being--" What would be the right word, the best way to say it, "--encouraged to think in ways that might not suit them. Do you understand what I mean, Messa Treadwell? It is why windows are so important." The girl tilted her chin toward the one in which she'd just managed, with his assistance, to climb. "Aside from that, you are a man who knows what is due and what there is to owe. That is money. Yes? That is taxes."

Gloria Wynsee dragged a thumb across the mouth of her teacup, and then abruptly shifted the topic. Her voice fell to a whisper.

"Rhaena Olwak disturbs the numbers. She knows mathematics very well."

It was, if anything, a tasteful attempt at broaching the subject.
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Treadwell » Sun Jul 21, 2013 5:50 pm

Treadwell sits there at his desk, listening, nodding along as Gloria talks. The turning of the conversation from "Alice, hmm hmm; yes, she's my wife, mother of my children, mmph mmph," to the whisper about Rhaena Olwak Burnie is a little displeasing. It requires the shoveling away of another tiny sandwich, then another, and then a third.

His answer to her is a simple one as he brushes the crumbs from his beard and breasts and belly. That answer is equally restrained, hushed, nearly inaudible to his aged ears.

"I know, hmm hmm. I do what I can and what I am supposed to do. Someone has to stay, hmm hmm, normal and regular in this town. I need to know who is, however."

He pauses here to take a long, slow shlurrrrrp of the last of his tea.

"Is there anything else you would care to have? There's certainly more, mmph mmph."
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Rance » Mon Jul 22, 2013 1:25 am

"I am," she said. "For as normal and regular as I may be. I wore her sigil once. Right here." She motioned with a pointed finger to the collar of her blouse. "I thought she was a fine lady, a -- a very proper woman. I thought perhaps that I could be like her, if I followed in her steps. If I learned my mathematics and surveyed her patience.

"I also think," said the girl, as she took a brave sip of tea -- she wanted very much to savor it, but it was tasteless to her tired tongue, "that I would prefer having my skin boiled than ever end up like her."

She cradled her cup of tea in her palm, not with the delicacy of a lady, but with the utility of someone who relied on the mug to keep her steady. She took to her feet and wandered to the door of his office. The girl pressed her cheek and ear against it, listening quietly for a few long moments, before she approached the table again. She poured a little more tea. Her hand shook. She never drank her tea. She just held it, sometimes glancing at her dark face in the reflection of the steamy liquid.

"Rhaena Olwak would bend your wife's mind, if she could. And your children's. Any others she believes may be vulnerable. What would you consider doing, Messa Treadwell, to prevent that?"
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Re: A Day at the Office

Postby Treadwell » Mon Jul 22, 2013 4:53 am

"Well, dearie, for now, my wife, my children, my horse, my carriage, and my older brother are all well out of Myrken Wood, mmph mmph, at my order. I've told Alice that I would send for them to return when I could, mmph mmph."

With that said, he gruntingly hefts himself to his feet, returning to the side cabinet to refill his tea. Stopping beside Gloria on his way back to his desk, Aloisius gives a merry giggle and bends next to her ear to whisper an addition.

"For the rest, I suppose I talk with people like you."

Instead of plumping back into his chair behind his desk, Treadwell takes a seat at a side couch that's a little closer, wheezily settling there as he takes a gulp at his new mug of tea. Another sandwich is snatched from the plate and bitten in two.

"Now, Gloria, where ought we truly begin to fix this situation?"
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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