Erim of Death (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sinistralofdeath) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_rpg2012-02-14 03:30 pm
sinistralofdeath) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-02-14 03:30 pm
#2: Carnations and Family.
(February 14th: Action / Erim’s Workplace / Around Mayfield, Technically? / Open to Residents)
[Erim had been wandering around when a woman had ushered her into a building; standing before her, she now demands to know why she’s late. The silver haired female hasn’t even the time to ask a question before she is seated in a chair at a desk in front of a mechanism.]
[Letters on raised metal circles, attached to small metal bars, go inside the black metal. They seem to beckon fingers to press them, and hesitantly she does. An a appears on the paper sticking out of the machine. Some form of magic? Spying notes on the desk, they read, “Rewrite the official schedule,” “Type out an abriged version of the Henderson report,” and other things that mean nothing to Erim.]
[So she begins to write. Anything, everything. Her past, the history of Estpolis—the world from where she originates. What else does she have to do today, anyhow? Taking occasional breaks when she sees others doing the same, someone even has the kindness to buy her lunch when he notices she didn’t bring her own.]
[At the end of the workday, she receives a bouquet of carnations, “For a job well done.” Apparently, what she writes doesn’t matter as long as she shows up.]
Lovely—perhaps being here isn’t entirely inconvenient.
[Stepping out the door of this place, the once-goddess gives the faintest smile and inhales deeply. Flowers have always been a favorite of Erim’s. A small weakness, if you will, ever since she named the priphea in the Gratze Empire.]
[If you’re below age eighteen, you will be treated to the utmost maternal love; if you’re eighteen or above, you will be treated like a dearly beloved sibling…]
[But of course, Erim won’t know why.]
[Erim had been wandering around when a woman had ushered her into a building; standing before her, she now demands to know why she’s late. The silver haired female hasn’t even the time to ask a question before she is seated in a chair at a desk in front of a mechanism.]
[Letters on raised metal circles, attached to small metal bars, go inside the black metal. They seem to beckon fingers to press them, and hesitantly she does. An a appears on the paper sticking out of the machine. Some form of magic? Spying notes on the desk, they read, “Rewrite the official schedule,” “Type out an abriged version of the Henderson report,” and other things that mean nothing to Erim.]
[So she begins to write. Anything, everything. Her past, the history of Estpolis—the world from where she originates. What else does she have to do today, anyhow? Taking occasional breaks when she sees others doing the same, someone even has the kindness to buy her lunch when he notices she didn’t bring her own.]
[At the end of the workday, she receives a bouquet of carnations, “For a job well done.” Apparently, what she writes doesn’t matter as long as she shows up.]
Lovely—perhaps being here isn’t entirely inconvenient.
[Stepping out the door of this place, the once-goddess gives the faintest smile and inhales deeply. Flowers have always been a favorite of Erim’s. A small weakness, if you will, ever since she named the priphea in the Gratze Empire.]
[If you’re below age eighteen, you will be treated to the utmost maternal love; if you’re eighteen or above, you will be treated like a dearly beloved sibling…]
[But of course, Erim won’t know why.]
no subject
Then consider yourself invited for a future meal, then. [Smiling at this, the woman in black takes the food items Cain has picked out, and crisply walks to the checkout boy. Paying him the total, she becons the young blond that it’s time for them to go.]
Ah—I did not think, I apologize. Are those living with you going to be worried? It’s late now.
no subject
[Regardless of if Abel were worrying about him (he would be, and would possibly even be stalking them right now at a distance), Cain missed his brother already.]
Abel will be waiting for me.
no subject
[Of course, Erim doesn’t let the feeling show on her face, and a smile appears in its stead.]
Well, Cain, I thank you very much for all your help today. I’ll sorely miss you, however; if you ever need anything, please, feel free to come to 459 Stone Street, my home.
no subject
You too! I live at 1648 Albright Lane if you ever want anything, okay? You can stop by any time.
no subject
Thank you, Cain; I’ll take you up on that offer sometime.
[Hefting the groceries up, she turns and begins to walk in the direction of her home. Looking at the bouquet, which she had stored in an extra bag, Erim decides it will go in a vase in her room when she goes home.]
[Turning back to her blond companion, the pale female waves one last time before allowing the parting sorrow to show on her face.]