[OPEN-ISH] Sometimes I feel like my brain turns to leaves

[overharrowed]

WHO: Julius, Ellie, Strange, Barrow, Wysteria, Benedict, and anyone else who wants to tap in
WHAT: Julius has a new job
WHEN: Vaguely after the return from the Silent Plains
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Feel free to tag in responding to the main text, or talk to me OOC if you'd like to hash out a bespoke starter.

When Julius realized he was the last dedicated project leader remaining, it had been clear to him that the position was likely to change or vanish in short order. The organization has contracted, and distinctions that were once useful have become redundant. It's not as if his knowledge from the project would be lost, or that he doesn't trust the new division heads. To the contrary, he's worked with Niehaus on red lyrium for years, and Derrica is among his nearest and dearest. They are sensible choices and that are also personally advantageous to him.

If a small part of his mind registers frustration at not swinging up the ladder himself, there's another part ready to point out all the reasons he wasn't the most strategic choice, many of which were the results of his own actions. It's fine.

Seneschal is unquestionably a position they need filled, and also one that requires trust. He's here because he's earned that. And he's willing to shelve his own ambitions (or at least turn them down a bit) in the name of a well-run, effective organization. It's not as if he isn't a practical man. But it's an adjustment. It certainly feels a bit like starting over, not least as he settles into a new office. He's not set official office hours yet, but he can be found sorting through a variety of books, papers, and correspondence more often than not for the first week or so.

Comments

Closed to Ellie

[overharrowed]

Julius respects how useful the griffons are, but every since he first climbed on one's back, he's secretly harbored the belief that they are too intelligent for him to feel perfectly comfortable riding them so high up and so fast. This belief is responsibly and firmly suppressed whenever an assignment requires riding with someone else, but he's never spent a lot of extra time in the eyrie. He's willing to help if asked, but usually his skills are better applied elsewhere.

Still, it's not as if he doesn't know where the eyrie is. And it also makes sense that Ellie spends more time there than in her office. It's not a very office-focused job, Julius suspects. The eyrie is his first guess, at least, when he decides to track her down. And if he misses her, he supposes the extra trip up and down the stairs can do him some good.

[notathreat]

The eyrie is where he'll find her. Morning and evening, a pitchfork or a brush or a pick in hand, feeding or scraping or spreading down clean bedding.

She's got her hair pulled back, a smock covering her armor, and thick gloves. She's working to pitch clean hay into one of the just-cleaned platforms when she hears the door open up.

Ellie glances down from her platform, wipes her forehead with the back of her forearm. Julius isn't someone she's overly familiar with, but both Marcus and Derrica seem to hold him in high regard, and that's enough for her.

"Hey," she says casually. "Taking a walk?"

[overharrowed]

"Inevitably," is a bit rueful. He grew up in a tower and he's in decent shape now, but he's daily aware he's no longer as young as he was. (Or at least his knees aren't.) He's dressed neatly but not flashily: robes, today, but with a practical cut that allows easy movement.

"No, I wanted to find you for a talk, if you're at liberty. It's not deeply urgent, so it can be another time, though regardless, I may take a moment before I head back down. As long as I'm not in the way."

His eyes flick, casually, to see if Little White Monster is in residence. He can't say they've especially bonded, but there's some transitive fondness from Marcus anyhow.

[notathreat]

Ellie pitches and spreads the last of the hay, catching her breath before she heads to the edge of the platform, swinging her legs over it to let them dangle.

She sounds a touch out of breath at first, but she catches it quickly as she starts to peel off her gloves, flexing her fingers. She slides down off the platform, catching herself before dropping the rest of the way to the ground.

"Nah, go ahead. Must be important if you came all this way just to catch me."

Little White Monster is somewhere nearby, in one of the roosts. Though he was sleeping when Julius walked in, he's cracked open an eye and shuffling now.

[overharrowed]

"Important but not an emergency," he says, resisting the fleeting urge to lean against a wall. He's not out of breath, at least, even if his old Ghislain injury is probably going to tell him about today's excursion later.

"I mainly wanted to speak to you now that I'm taking the vacant Seneschal position. I don't intend to meddle needlessly in how you're managing the griffons; you know more than I do, and I'm not going to try to override you for no reason. But I feel like I should be aware of what you are doing when I make choices or talk to the Division Heads. To see if there's anything you need but don't have, anything you do have but could use more of, that sort of thing." He smiles just a little. "No promises, obviously. I'm going to have to balance a lot of priorities. But I figure the more I know, the better decisions I can make."

Closed to Strange

[overharrowed]

He waits until Strange is in his office, on the theory that the time he spends in the infirmary is likely to be devoted to actually caring for the ill or the wounded (or preparing to provide that care). Paperwork, on the other hand, he can certainly interrupt without compunction.

Julius gives the door a small knock one afternoon (or the door frame, if the door itself is open). Just because he suspects an interruption will be welcome, he doesn't forgo the manners of acknowledging that it is, in fact, an interruption.

[portalling]

The Head Healer’s office directly faces the corridor outside the Seneschal’s, and so Strange has had a fairly good vantage point and earshot for all the recent turnover. There’s been a mild hubbub at the central tower, people coming-and-going, clearing-in and clearing-out as the new appointees move in. It’d feel like spring cleaning, almost, if it weren’t winter.

“C’mon in—” And, realising who’s in the doorway, Strange breaks into a smile. It’s a familiar sight which greets Julius: Doctor Strange behind a desk, looking appropriately scholarly. Just like any other day in the Research workroom, in the Sanctum library, even in Julius’ own Sashamiri project office, but this is their first time meeting here.

“Congratulations are in order, I think,” the other man says. “Unless you’re dreading the prospect of herding so many cats. Do I call you ‘boss’ now?”

[overharrowed]

"'Boss' certainly isn't necessary," Julius says, a bit wry. "I think Seneschal or Julius will do." He still uses 'Enchanter' in some contexts, but increasingly rarely within Riftwatch itself. Of the job he says, "It's ... a change. But I certainly can't argue it's practicality. Supplies and operations have been increasingly constrained with the war and the lower head count, and we haven't had a seneschal since Black left. It makes sense that the Division heads want a person overseeing it, and I think I've been here long enough to be trustworthy."

Probably a light understatement, given his tenure and the political leanings of the organization. Still, it feels like something of a lateral move at best, even if he doesn't want to seem ungrateful or unflattered.

"I did wonder if I could have a few minutes to discuss how we can align our work flows, though. You've been operating without a seneschal for better or worse, and I'm learning fast about a lot of areas of the organization I had less contact with before."

[portalling]

Cheerfully, as he starts to rummage through his desk drawers: “Oh, you’re going to regret asking. I have a list. Some of my needs line up with what you might be able to provide as a sort of pseudo-interim-quartermaster as well: mostly ensuring that the infirmary receives enough supplies, particularly with all the shortages lately.”

Strange spoke with confidence. He’d settled into his office quickly, with familiarity; it was unavoidably different from the responsibilities he’d held as surgeon and as sorcerer, but the man still swept into positions of authority with a kind of casual arrogance as if he belonged there, as if it were the easiest assumption that others should listen when he spoke.

At least it was fitting, with this role.

“And I have a couple other questions I’ve been meaning to run by someone higher up in the chain of command, but I’ll give you a sec first. Where did you wanna begin?”

[overharrowed]

"I love a list," Julius says with a small smile. "Given the nature of my role, I think supplies do make sense as a place to begin, though. My assumption is that we could always use more of everything, but is there anything particularly dire?"

Julius is happy to meet Strange where he is, evidently, taking his own position and Strange's as read. Whatever else this meeting is, it doesn't read as any sort of assertion of dominance.

He finds himself a place to sit, assuming the conversation will go long enough he shouldn't remain hovering over Strange's desk.

Closed to Barrow

[overharrowed]

It's not the most pleasant time of year to be outside, and not for the first time, Julius thinks wistfully about the constantly-temperate world out of time inside Skyhold. Still, it's not so cold out yet that he can't manage with a warm cloak and gloves, and he suspects he's most likely to find Barrow in action. He hopes that it will be in the Gallows proper; if he has to go into Kirkwall, it will mean more substantially rearranging his afternoon. Optimistically, he heads toward the training yard first. He plans to make a loop of the Gallows' ground level and either find the man or a lead on where he probably is at present.

[thereneverwas]

Barrow is indeed adjacent to the training yard, in what has come to be known as his Throne: a rickety wooden chair dragged over to the equipment shed and draped sarcastically with otherwise unusable fur scraps, coupled with a three-legged table (it used to have four) on which he keeps his mug of coffee, his cigarettes, and now a little diorama of twigs, pebbles, and miscellaneous objects that, if one squints, might pass for a view of the Gallows from above.

It's where he holds court most mornings, calling drills and observing when not actively demonstrating, but at the moment that Julius approaches he isn't so occupied. He looks up from his rudimentary war map and offers a friendly smile, adding "our new Seneschal," to the greeting.

[overharrowed]

Julius returns the smile easily enough and raises his hand in greeting as he comes up to Barrow's work area. The makeshift map catches his eye, and he moves around so he can get a better look, nodding when it resolves into a familiar outline. Glancing back up at Barrow, he says, "I hope I'm not interrupting. I wanted a word, but it's not urgent if you're in the middle of something."

[thereneverwas]

"Not at all," Barrow assures him, and casually flicks at a pebble to shift it out of place, a motion of no doubt inestimable violence.

"What's on your mind?"

[overharrowed]

His expression twitches toward a smile at the flick of a pebble, but most of his attention remains on the other man. "First, I mainly just wanted to establish contact in my new role. It's been some time since we had an acting Seneschal, so I thought it might be worth checking in to see if there's anything urgent with the fortifications I should know about."

Presumably if it was very urgent, he'd have heard another way, but with Julius newly overseeing the Gallows' logistics he's aware he needs to take a new and different interest.

Closed to Wysteria

[overharrowed]

Julius has worked with Wysteria for long enough to anticipate that this conversation might be slightly more complicated than some of the others he plans to have in the first few days of his tenure. That said, the logistics at least may be much easier than some, considering the fact that she has to pass within view of his doorway to get to her own office. He decides to keep an ear and an eye out for her rather than spending the time on tracking her down elsewhere. He'll go looking for her later if he has to, but he's in no great rush.

It's not that he's procrastinating the discussion, of course. It's just an efficient use of his time. (And perhaps giving himself more opportunity to strategize, but that's neither here nor there.)

[heirring]

The trouble—and indeed the very root of the issue, leading to the suffering of colleagues and nominal-supervisors alike—is, that for all that Wysteria de Foncé is imminently predictable in some regards, she is in others imminently unpredictable.

Hence, at a rather inconveniently early hour on a day that is likely far sooner than anyone who is definitely not procrastinating, only strategizing would probably really like, Wysteria is already waiting when Julius arrives at his office. She has in her possession three very ominous things: a leather bound folio book bursting with papers, a a plate sized parcel wrapped in waxed paper tied with a brown string, and a cheery disposition.

"Good morning, Enchanter! Or I supposed it is Seneschal, now. Many happy congratulations on your appointment."

[overharrowed]

"Seneschal will suit, I think. And my thanks." If he's anything other than happy to see her, there's not hint of it in his manner. He has a cup of tea in one hand, a few folios of paper tucked under the other arm. Opening the door with enough skill to suggest he's quite used to doing so with his hands nominally full, he gestures her in first.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting. I haven't quite worked out my plan for regular office hours yet."

The office is still mid-unpacking, though his desk is neat enough to let him get work done there. Across the desk from the chair it seems like he's been using, two more are arranged for discussion or collaboration.

[heirring]

"Certainly not. I have only been here for the last half hour, but I expected to wait. I have always been a persistently early riser, which is rarely the case for our fellows here in the Gallows unless otherwise required. And besides, I am patient enough."

Is, possibly, the first time anyone in the world has assigned the descriptor of patient to the young lady; does it count if she's given it to herself?

Once inside the office, Wysteria gravitates toward one of the chairs on the near side of the desk. First though, she sets her folio there at the edge of the desk, and so too the plate sized parcel wrapped in wax paper.

"I thought we might discuss the filing system. As you know, I was once the Seneschal's assistant—not Enchanter Black, of course. No, I am naturally referring to Seneschal Pizzicagnolo. But, if I'm not mistaking, his successor did very little to alter the filing system he and I settled on, and so I believe my expertise may still be of some good to you."

[overharrowed]

"I think that's a reasonable place to begin. Some of it has been self-evident, but I expect you could save me a bit of time, for which I'd be grateful." He settles in his chair. As he sets down his cup, he adds, "I hope you'll forgive me; if I'd known we were meeting, I would have brought tea for you as well. Another time, perhaps."

Closed to Benedict

[overharrowed]

Benedict's own appointment as personnel officer is new enough that Julius isn't worried about having to sort through a variety of established practices with him. He does, however, feel it's important that they get off on the right foot. So it isn't long after both of them have taken up their new posts that Julius goes looking for the younger man, purposeful but unhurried. This meeting may or may not be quick, but he still needs to check it off his list.

[altusimperius]

He's caught in the hallway, met halfway by Benedict with a folio in his arms. He looks a little surprised to see Julius, perhaps in part because he was just on his way over to do the same thing; they all but bump into each other, and Benedict gives the trepidatious smile of someone on his first day at a new job.

"Enchanter," he greets, amiably enough, "or-- Seneschal? Which would you rather?"

[overharrowed]

"I don't mind either, but I think Seneschal is probably more to the purpose," Julius says with a faint smile. "On which note, I wondered if you might have a few minutes to talk, now or sometime soon. Nothing urgent, but as we're both relatively new in our positions, it struck me it might be good to lay some groundwork."

For all Julius is new at this, he doesn't seem to share Benedict's nerves. He has the brisk, businesslike air of someone getting himself up to speed rapidly, but he doesn't seem inclined to make his full plate someone else's problem. (Or at least, he doesn't seem any more inclined to that than when he was running Sashamiri.)

[altusimperius]

"Of course." Heartened by Julius' smile, Benedict straightens in a mirror of his confidence, lowering the folio to hang at his side. "Where would you like to begin?"

[overharrowed]

"My office or yours?" seems a genuine enough question, leaving the ball in Benedict's court. Julius hasn't settled into his own office so thoroughly that it feels like his yet, so it costs him little to let the other man choose.