AEDOLIS > The Rest of Aedolis

Word Gets Around [Pal!]

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Marakai2.0:
For two whole days, Prox had enjoyed what had amounted to relative anonymity, as removed from public view as he had been. No one knew him, and even those old enough to know of him couldn't recognise him. He found that out in a way he found to be rather amusing; about two years before he'd transferred out of the Ravens, when he'd been younger, dumber, and more in control of...things, he'd caused an uproar at what used to be his favorite bar.

It wasn't a bar anymore, but the same man who owned the restaurant it had turned into had owned it all those years before. His picture - sans piercings and the haircut - was still up on the wall, with DO NOT SERVE written underneath it.

This morning, he'd gone in for breakfast, and found the picture had been updated. Sadly, he couldn't even remember what he'd done all those years ago to be banned from the place, and therefore couldn't apologize and hopefully fix the problem. Young and dumb, and on more than enough substances to pickle a whaloceros...that used to pretty much be Prox in a nutshell.

And that wasn't the only case, by far, and there were certainly better examples. He'd been added back to the Ravens roster, and he could hear the city whispering his name, sometimes in awe and recognition, and other times merely in starstruck idol worship.

He missed it, he supposed. It was nice, being an unknown quantity for a time, but that time was done. Time now to get back to work, and if his first order of business was to speak with Public Relations - that was, Pilot Noble Lemmerin - then so be it. To him, it was just one checkmark on the grand list of requirements for reentering the limelight that was a Squadmembers life.

He'd received the message not too long before, and made his response just as soon as he'd seen it. Prox hoped she meant what she said about meeting whenever it was convenient for him, as he'd gotten up and moving straight away, and came to find himself walking once again before the doors of Nevermore, though this time he entered without fanfare into the place where he belonged. Making his way through the secret passageways and twisting corridors proved no challenge for the old Raven, having traversed them many times before. Little had changed, save for the passage of time.

It wasn't long before he found himself in front of the door he was seeking, one thin arm and pale fist raising and rapping, tapping on that chamber door.

Paladienne:
Pilot Noble Valentine Lemmerin was used to challenges in her line of work. How couldn’t she be? She’d come into her own only recently, within the last double or triple handful of years or so, and she could at least claim a trial by almost literal fire when she’d first started at her PR position in Nevermore. She had the confidence that, if she could spin that insanity, she could do anything. Besides that, she’d had plenty of practice over the long years, spinning stories to promote only the best about the Ryun Ravens, making sure the dark and dirty secrets never saw the light of day, and ensuring that the public continued to revere the Ravens as the heroes they believed them to be, the heroes they were.

Of course, since then, when things had changed so abruptly, Valentine had had her work cut out for her, smiling as prettily as she could smile and assuring the public everything was fine and the rumors were unfounded and there was absolutely nothing wrong. The Ravens were as perfect as perfect could be. The Ravens were there to protect Aedolis and her citizens from each and every one of their enemies, to ensure the children could sleep safely in their beds and play safely outside, and they always would be.

Things had slowed down for a good while, which had given her momentary peace and quiet, so to speak. Now they were starting to pick up again.

The rumor mill was already abuzz with speculation about the increased activity around Nevermore. New faces, and such like. She’d already given them a yarn about that, saying new blood was always good to have, especially when the new blood seemed so promising, and that the new Ravens were ready and willing to do their duties and protect and serve. The tabloids and reporters and everyone else had gobbled that up and had come sniffing around her proverbial table for more when the sensation had faded and there was something more interesting to learn.

Which brought her around to her new problem.

Well. Not that it was actually a problem.

The new faces of the Ravens weren’t as big a buzz now because of the whispering of another name. A name that hadn’t been on the Ravens’ roster for sixty years.

A name that had caused her desk to be overrun by requests, inquiries, politely veiled demands, and other things that Valentine absolutely considered dumping in her wastebasket and pretending those things didn’t exist. But doing that would only cause twice as many to show up tomorrow, so it was better to give the usual placeholder ‘more information will be forthcoming shortly, thank you for your patience’ to them until she could actually get the information.

In fact, it was that reason that had her sending out the communication to Pilot Noble Prox Lutore in the first place. She hadn’t expected his quick response, but it certainly made it easier that he had. She’d offered to meet at his convenience on purpose, mostly because she was too busy to really eke out a portion of her day just for chatter and mostly because she was sure he was still settling in. Things had changed quite a bit in Ryun, and familiar things had changed to the unfamiliar.

She was in the middle of responding to several of those inquiries with her placeholder when there came a rapping, tapping on her office door. Probably was one of her colleagues, wanting to know what to say to some belligerent inky-fingers who refused to take ’more information will be forthcoming shortly, thank you for your patience’ as an answer.

That was why she’d closed her office door.

Valentine barely glanced up from the form she was perusing as she called, “It’s open. Enter at your own risk.”

Marakai2.0:
"An unlocked door in Nevermore.....I think that is the risk."

Only those with the sharpest of ears would have even heard the door open, though it eased shut with a much more audible click once Prox had slipped inside, moving with the fluid grace of a feline.

"Though I suppose that...among Ravens, there is nearly no such thing as 'locked doors.'" Prox had very easily heard what she said, as well as noted the way that she had said it. Therefore, he inferred that she was not expecting him. Odd, she had requested his presence, and so he had came. Why wouldn't he be expected?

No matter. A quick glance around the room jogged his memory of the place, and he remembered that this had, indeed, always been the PR office. Offhandedly, he wondered just how many poor souls had sat in here before Pilot Noble Lemmerin had, during Prox's absence. How many had dealt with the shitshow that was Nym's....regime? How many had given up and been scared off, been reassigned? Those thoughts caused a sort of garnering of respect for the woman, whom he had heard but not yet turned to-

Whoa.

Upon turning, he saw her, staring down at the paperwork upon her desk. First was the obvious: her hair, pale and white, hanging in the air above her head as if loathe to be dominated by gravity, moving on its own as it would if she were amidst a gentle water current. Her eyes, of what he could see of them, were a brilliant teal color, studiously upon the work before her. Just below those eyes, he thought he could see brilliant, glowing spots like freckles. They were actually quite adora-

Wait, what? Was he just about to use the word 'adorable?' Something was...off. Not wrong, per say, but different. Somehow, this difference brought him a feeling akin to comfort, as if this was the way this was meant to be.

After a moment, he realised that he had been staring at her, almost mesmerized by the woman at the desk reading over her papers. Another moment passed before he remembered he had been there for a reason, and he cleared his throat.

"Oh...but I am Prox. You....needed to speak with me?" His voice was smooth, almost lilting in a way despite the lack of emotion he usually displayed.

Paladienne:
“What’s the point of having an unlocked door in the den of people trained to get in anywhere, by any means?” Valentine responded automatically, her voice tinged with slight annoyance, as if she’d been interrupted and asked such a question before. “And if someone comes in here intending to hurt or kill me, then they’ll be sorely disappointed. And probably dead.”

But when the name registered in her mind, her thoughts stuttered to a halt.

Prox Lutore. He’s here already?

Well. She had asked him to come at his convenience. She hadn’t expected it to be this soon. She’d expected him to take a few more days or wait until the Ravens had had their first official meeting.

She carefully raised her gaze, keeping her expression neutral. Heaven and earth, he was a sight to behold. Tall and pale-skinned, with jet black hair long on one side and shaved on the other and black eyes with red pupils, his face a wonderful mix of Tsumi and Starstrider genetics. She’d seen pictures of him, but those pictures didn’t do the real man justice, did they? Valentine felt her heart skip a beat - ba-thump ... ba-thump - and she didn’t even really know why.

She caught him looking around her office, his own expression blank as he studied his surroundings. Natural reaction for a Raven, Valentine knew. But she wasn’t going to apologize for her taste in decorations.

The entire left wall was just bookshelves, filled with binders and folders and everything else she needed to keep records of, all color-coded and labeled, while the right wall was shaded glass, affording a wonderful view - from her office’s side of the glass only - of Ryun and the distant, shimmering, sparkling ocean. Across from the door was her desk, a large black wood and steel contraption that met her needs rather well. The wall behind her, and the spaces to her immediate left and right, was filled with potted orchids all in varying stages of bloom and growth. There were no pictures, no other personal effects, unless one counted the satchel that hung on the back of her black leather, padded office chair.

She’d made this office her territory, in an attempt to chase away whatever terribleness had been here before her.

She kept her expression neutral when he looked right at her. She refused to feel embarrassed as she saw his eyes focus on her hair and then on her birthmarks. She’d long hoped that she’d lose the ability to feel the twinge of unhappiness that came from strangers seeing her for the first time, but that pipe dream had yet to be fulfilled.

She set the paper she had been reviewing down on her desk, then gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk. “Thank you for arriving so promptly. Forgive me; I’ve been a little swamped. Please, have a seat. This shouldn’t take too much time out of your day.”

Valentine reached to retrieve a paper that had several dozen questions written on it, set it in front of her along with a pen, then set her elbows on the edge of her desk and laced her fingers together as she waited for him to get comfortable.

Marakai2.0:
"If someone makes it here, past regular military, the various Pilots, and us Ravens...." the corner of Prox's mouth curled just slightly, the smirk almost imperceptible at a glance, ".....you'll likely be dead before you even realize you're in trouble. That, or security has become extremely lax while I've been gone."

When she looked up, Prox could indeed see that her eyes were that brilliant teal color, widened as a Tsumi's would be though upon a more careful inspection he could differentiate between the various parts of her eyes; each part was merely a slightly brighter or darker shade. But this time, before he fell into staring at her again, he turned his attention again to her office.

"I must say, you've very much made yourself at home in this little room...." he mused, voice low but not so much to say he hadn't intended on her to hear. He gazed at the bookshelf first, taking in the organization and the tidyness of the rows and rows of materials related to her work. From there, his gaze swept to the right - even as he moved toward the chair she indicated, he was taking in details - taking in the multitude of orchids to either side and behind her, the rather intimidating desk she sat behind, and lastly the large windows allowing a one-sided view to the world outside.

He seemed to remember Public Relations being a terrifying affair, before. But now, it seemed, the only part of the room that offered an air of danger was its occupant....and that desk.That desk was massive.

His second visual sweep of the room took but a moment, and his eyes again settled on hers as he took the seat across from her.

"Mmm. No apology is necessary. You are only doing your best, I would assume, and my coming here has likely increased your workload substantially. Despite your earlier protest otherwise...I must apologize." He dipped his head in a sort of mock bow, though those sharp eyes of his never left her face.

"In any case, I am here, you are here, and I have more free time than i know what to do with. So, my time is yours, for whatever that is worth." His gaze then flicked down to the paper in front of her. "I assume that is what I am here for," he said, nodding down at it.

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