Seeking Clues || Open Nov 9, 2016 11:54:24 GMT -7
Post by Tehodis Kitai on Nov 9, 2016 11:54:24 GMT -7
3:30pm on the 3rd of The Scales of Judgement
La Muse Street in Eersaeb, Submiere
| If there was one thing shocking to Tehodis about her new life, it was this: She loved her job.|
If she had had a job in her past life: she didn’t know what it could have been. Beyond that, she had simply lived off the land and on the run for the few years she had memory of. All she had known about work prior to these last few months was the fact that most people hated it. It was a “necessary evil” they called it. Heck, even her coworkers tended to complain when she was partnered with them. The shifts were too long, too arduous. The paperwork was too dull, too stressful. The pay just wasn’t enough.
Tehodis couldn’t disagree more.
The long shifts were a godsend. She had little else to do with her time, and the small place she was staying wasn’t good for much else than sleep. It smelled of dead fish and the other renters were rowdy all hours of the day. The difficulty of the shifts kept her awake, excited. There was usually something fresh happening, someone new to interrogate, or a lead to follow up on. The paperwork wasn’t a problem either - it was a break from the usual grind, and she found herself excelling at reports in a way others struggled. The pay was enough to satisfy her minimal desires - after all, she hadn’t a single memory of being paid before - and moreover, the job gave her satisfaction.
Well, it usually did. Today was a little different.
Today, she was following up on a lead. Someone had reported pirates in the docks in this neighborhood -- the nicest in the city. It wasn’t that she hated the area - it was that there was no way there were pirates in a neighborhood like this. Lord Woodrow’s manor was just up the street a few kilometres, and the rest of the streets were lined with fanciful houses, and ornate stores. Most importantly, there were guards patrolling the neighborhood at all hours of the day. Even if there had been a pirate, they would have been caught by now. Still: It was her job.
She had to follow up on the leads given, no matter how false they sounded. She was a Junior Investigator and did as she was told. And this is where she was told to be. Her partner had abandoned her, believing it to be as false a report as she did. Now she was left to go door-to-door, store-to-store, alley-to-alley; questioning, canvassing, investigating... All by her lonesome. She was thorough, but it was exhausting.
She looked up at the sky to see the sun well-past it’s highest perch and sighed. She had been here for four hours already, and still had over half of the street to go. It was hot. Her uniform was stuffy.
She straightened her jacket, wiped her badge clean, and went to the next store: Pottery. Perhaps there’d be a clue… Or at least a commotion to quell.