( closed-ish )

[excipio]

WHO: Caspar Perakis, Kenna Carrow, Lukas & friends
WHAT: Misc starters
WHEN: Varies, default backdated to pre-Elf Drama
WHERE: All over Kirkwall/the Gallows
NOTES: Closed starters below! Feel free to DM/otherwise get in touch if you want something with any of mine.

[ placeholder to guilt me into writing open starters later, maybe ]

Comments

for hot mom.

[tensive]

Research, it turns out, is mostly a euphemism for running notes and errands and looking up and delivering books to people with better titles and in other departments. It's a bit of a flashback to his earlier days in Kinloch, but that isn't altogether a problem; it only becomes one when the person asking for favors decides to be friendly, start a conversation, otherwise waste his time.

Which is why there's a certain irony to the fact that he's the guilty party, this time — after a second look and a very serious delay to consider whether he can be bothered. Lukas is dropping off some carefully rolled notes and a few books at a nearby shelf, meant to be picked up later. He doesn't stop altogther; just slows a bit, gradually, giving the woman across the small office space a curious look.

"They've got you doing paperwork?"

He doesn't ask if it's Fitcher, because he knows it is. Manners are fine. Manners at the cost of playing dumb, not so much.

[unshut]

It's quiet work and, unless something is specifically handed to her, there is almost no reason whatsoever to look up. Not when someone else is in the room, anyway. True, she might make some habit of dilly dallying and snooping through the books while unattended, but to the seeing eye the woman at the little desk in the corner of the dusty little office is as diligent as any little hard working clerk ought to be. Any busy body tendencies are saved for her private hours.

Maybe that accounts for the flicker of surprise that crosses Fitcher's face when she raises it to him. Imagine! He might have said nothing at all and she would have gone on quite happily and quite dangerously oblivious to his presence. Careful, she thinks. Early days yet, my dear.

And so the woman at the little desk brightens. She sets down her pen.

"Why, if it isn't the Knight-Enchanter. I was beginning to think I might never see a familiar face." --(should she be so lucky)-- "What are you doing here?"