Fall 54, 514 AV
With work increasing, Estrellir had taken up the habit of working outside the bureau with papers that were relatively mundane. Nothing too important could go through the magenta door, of course, but scribbling reports in her own messy handwriting with copious indecipherable notes squeezed into every available space seemed comparatively harmless. At the same time, the fresh paint and shiny silver plaque gracing the detective bureau seemed to laugh at her every time she approached. Of course, she’d overseen the changes herself, but that didn’t change the fact that the initial push had come from the Lorak Magistrate. Estrellir didn’t like others telling her what to do with her business.
So she was sitting across the street at Cecily’s Pantry, dressed in practical grey blouse and dark trousers, ivory locks topped off and tamed to an extent by a shining white hat. It also served to protect her face from immediate sunlight that was starting to peek over the rooftops. While the bakery’s interior was filling up quickly, the Konti had chosen the only table outside, pointedly facing away from her own bureau.
Papers were spread all over the small table, some obviously ledgers, some lists of some sort and some crude sketches. She’d never paid much attention to aesthetics as long as she could navigate her own notes. Twisting a charcoal stick between pale fingers, she continued scribbling into her notebook, consulting the papers every now and then.
Next to her sat a small plate with pie, cherries flashing in their baked bed like raw wounds, and a glass of milk. They occupied the only free space on the table surface. Every few chimes, Estrellir absentmindedly waved a hand to chase away greedy flies and worse things.
After some time she straightened in her chair and stretched, looking astonishingly like one of her tiger-striped house cats. Then she took a sip of milk, already lukewarm, and looked over the sea of parchment. She shouldn’t have left the renovations report sitting so long… Exciting things were happening in Kenash, but that didn’t mean the paperwork could be neglected. With a sigh, she went back to a description of the commission of her silver and magenta plaque by an Akvatari artist.
With work increasing, Estrellir had taken up the habit of working outside the bureau with papers that were relatively mundane. Nothing too important could go through the magenta door, of course, but scribbling reports in her own messy handwriting with copious indecipherable notes squeezed into every available space seemed comparatively harmless. At the same time, the fresh paint and shiny silver plaque gracing the detective bureau seemed to laugh at her every time she approached. Of course, she’d overseen the changes herself, but that didn’t change the fact that the initial push had come from the Lorak Magistrate. Estrellir didn’t like others telling her what to do with her business.
So she was sitting across the street at Cecily’s Pantry, dressed in practical grey blouse and dark trousers, ivory locks topped off and tamed to an extent by a shining white hat. It also served to protect her face from immediate sunlight that was starting to peek over the rooftops. While the bakery’s interior was filling up quickly, the Konti had chosen the only table outside, pointedly facing away from her own bureau.
Papers were spread all over the small table, some obviously ledgers, some lists of some sort and some crude sketches. She’d never paid much attention to aesthetics as long as she could navigate her own notes. Twisting a charcoal stick between pale fingers, she continued scribbling into her notebook, consulting the papers every now and then.
Next to her sat a small plate with pie, cherries flashing in their baked bed like raw wounds, and a glass of milk. They occupied the only free space on the table surface. Every few chimes, Estrellir absentmindedly waved a hand to chase away greedy flies and worse things.
After some time she straightened in her chair and stretched, looking astonishingly like one of her tiger-striped house cats. Then she took a sip of milk, already lukewarm, and looked over the sea of parchment. She shouldn’t have left the renovations report sitting so long… Exciting things were happening in Kenash, but that didn’t mean the paperwork could be neglected. With a sigh, she went back to a description of the commission of her silver and magenta plaque by an Akvatari artist.
