Post by Vio on Dec 31, 2021 5:32:13 GMT -5
Wictoria #7
“Jack Faeladh…,” Wick recited, committing the agent’s name to memory as they walked, herself slightly ahead by perhaps a pace in order to serve as guide through twilit streets. However, it was by his decision that they paused — an explanation duly parted from his own lips. Truly, it did not bode well that Montgolfière’s finest were forced to call for aid from without, though with no true sense of scale she did not in the least seem fazed by the looming threat.
“Then,” she continued with a little less warmth in her words, now knowing that Agent Faeladh was indeed just another lawman. “I do hope thy expertise is enough, lest thy criminal’s actions become too ambitious,” the fatigued female expressed, lacking something of the spark she had had within the confines of the bookstore. “‘Twould truly be horrific if an outsider such as thee fell prey to such a monster before justice could be delivered, yes…? Oh… Perhaps my words were a tad hostile — not intended I assure,” Wictoria waved, realising that a portion of her disdain was bleeding through into her words.
She blinked.
Mayhaps that would be a good topic for a new novel… Or is it far too cliché? I must consider, Miss Joan pondered to herself as she gestured again for Jack to follow, leading him across the cobblestones of the town and up the highstreet towards the constabulary. Not a far jaunt from the bookstore, of course, it took the better part of a minute or two with their conversation included. A few broad steps of stone raised them up from the street towards the tall, polished oak doors that formed the establishment’s entrance, illuminated by lanterns suspended at either side upon decorative iron hooks.“This is your destination, Agent Faeladh,” Miss Joan stopped:
“I trust that thee no longer require further guidance…?”Click…!
Please, do not be… As if on cue, one of the doors to the constabulary opened, just enough for bodies to fit through in single file, casting a slightly more inviting warmth. If only the shadow that blocked said light were a more inviting individual. Slender of face but well-built of body, neither too thick nor too thin, blue eyes overlooked the two who stood on the doorstep. A thin but solid black chinstrap beard hugged a squared jaw, slightly more pronounced at the corners of the chin, though lacking a moustache. Short, black wax hair held to his cranium, his head revealing a receding hairline that exposed a smooth scalp.“Wictoria…”“Greetings, Father,” Wick replied:
“This gentleman was seeking you…”
“I’ve warned you about assisting strangers, Wictoria,” the man replied sternly, posturing himself more openly from the doorway. His neat beige shirt and chocolate brown dress trousers with suspenders were partially covered by a brown jacket to which a brass sheriff’s badge was affixed, a black tie about his collar and a squared sort of hat held in one hand that he had clearly been about to put on before he’d opened the door. A holster of sorts just about peaked from beneath the jacket, likely holding the revolver and baton he carried on his person at what now seemed like all times.“Of course, Father, but he’s here to see you…”“…Agent Faeladh?” he asked, waiting:
“Sheriff Joan Lanton. Please, enter…”
Wick stepped back.“You as well, Wictoria…”{Post Synopsis:—}
Wictoria leads Jack to the constabulary, where they encounter Lanton.
NOTES: ——
Joan Wictoria | #f8de7e
Jack Faeladh | #03ac13
Joan Lanton | #19cde6
Mrs. Joan [NPC] | #c46210
Bobèche [NPC] | #8c46cc