guy. (inspirers) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-08-27 19:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, guy lenard, peony min |
Who: Peony Min and Guy Lenard!
What: A chat about affairs at home and abroad.
Where: Seven Cups.
When: Around lunchtime.
Rating: PG.
Status: Complete!
Guy hurried his way over toward the cafe. It wouldn’t do for him to be late to an appointment with a council member, after all, and he didn’t want Peony to suddenly consider him unreliable. Bounding into the Seven Cups with his usual amount of energy, his travel bag over one shoulder, Guy looked eagerly over each table, wondering whether he’d catch her already waiting for him. Having just arrived back to the city in time for the ball, he had spent the past several days attempting to organize his travel notes into something more appropriate for the eyes of others. From a table in the corner, Peony lifted her hand in a slight wave. She had arrived a few precious minutes early -- just time enough to peruse the selection of loose leaf teas and consider whether she might wish to take some home -- and had only just settled into her chair and smoothed her skirt over her knees when her companion for the afternoon arrived. She stood as he approached and smiled as she reached her hand out to grasp his for a brief moment. “Good afternoon, Guy. Thank you for taking the time to meet me today.” As soon as Guy spotted her, the synergist wasted no time in leaping over in her direction. She looked as elegant and radiant as ever, he noted, feeling somewhat sheepish for his usual shabby self. Regardless, his smile was wide and friendly as he moved over to shake her hand. “Good afternoon to you, Councilor!” Shuffling around the table, he set his bag down and occupied the chair opposite. A bundle of energy as always, Guy wasted little time in digging around his bag for his ledger. “It’s always wonderful to see you. I hope you’ve been well?” “Very well, thank you, Guy” she responded as she sat. In truth, although life had been rather hectic recently, she had been well, her brief cold notwithstanding. “The pleasure is mine, I assure you.” He was pleasant company, but above and beyond that, the information he brought was often valuable. She had not spent much time in the outlands these last five years, but the happenings there were often relevant to the running of the guild -- if not immediately, then certainly later down the line. She preferred to take a long view. Still, first things first -- politeness was rarely sacrificed for business unless there was no other choice that she could see. This afternoon, she could afford to take her time. “I was thinking of ordering a pot of the white orchid tea, if you wish to join me. I find it pleasantly light for this weather.” “That sounds wonderful!” He grinned while he was looking over his belongings, sitting up straight after a few moments with a familiar looking ledger in his hand. “I haven’t had anything to drink all afternoon, come to think of it.” Guy handed her the ledger and attempted to settle himself in place. While he often had a bad habit of fidgeting, and even now his hands worked to smooth over the front of his shirt, it never hurt to try and make an effort. His mind went over the most pertinent details of his last outing. Fortunately, there had been little that seemed concerning--a miracle considering the excitements of late, no doubt. Although he had a feeling, what with recent rumors going around the city, that business would remain interesting for a time. “Now then, once you’ve given it a glance, I’ll be happy to extrapolate on any of the reports.” Amongst the usual observations, the only thing peculiar were the notes about Grenoble. Specifically, that there was anything in such a tiny village even to make note of. Peony took the ledger, flipping slowly through the pages, taking a brief pause from her reading as a waitress approached to order the pot of tea and two cups. A quiet few weeks, this time -- a comfort for once not to see unexplained craters and undead raiding parties. Still, she had to ask: “No further sign of the undead, I take it?” There had been a report filtered to her -- eventually -- of the occurrences in the cave the evening of the second attack. The ghostlike creature which had seemed to be controlling the zombies had not been vanquished. And, more privately, the necromancer who she was certain was connected to this had not made a reappearance. She was not naive enough to believe him dead and gone. She stopped on the page outlining trouble in a small outlands village, her brows knitting slightly as she read it over. “I have not heard of Grenoble previously. How far is it from the city walls?” One unexplained illness could be coincidence -- or it could be the sign of some manner of plague to come. It would be best to understand the gravity of the situation now. “Was the young man seen by a healer before he passed away? A village wise woman perhaps, or someone of that nature?” A place described as so small was unlikely to have an attendant white mage, but the men and women who tended the rural populace with their small magicks were more knowledgeable than most people gave them credit for. "Nothing more about our undead friends," Guy said, sounding hopeful. Once the tea arrived, he spared little time in serving himself. A little milk, a dollop of sugar, he gave his drink a very thorough stir, the little spoon clanking against the porcelain in an excited rhythm. On the subject of Grenoble, he raised his eyebrows. Taking a sip of his tea, he went over the details of his information gathering efforts in his mind. After a hum of approval for the tea, he went on, "Quite a distance away, depending on the method. I just happened to catch a few travelers from there, offered to pay for their drinks in exchange for the discussion." He leaned over the table to see where she was reading, pointing at a few pertinent sections along the page. "No healers or white mages, not that far out. Their wisewoman used your typical herbal potions, but nothing took. I suppose these things happen from time to time out there." After all, Guy knew a thing or two himself about the reliability of outlands healing methods. “Hmm,” Peony said, sipping at her tea -- pale gold and plain, without cream or sweetener and smelling faintly of flowers -- before she spoke again. “If another such case is reported, please let me know immediately.” Unfortunately, he was correct and such things did happen in the countryside. If this village was far, it would not be efficient to send someone to question the wisewoman, who might not know anything. Best to keep an eye on it, however, until it was certain that this one case was isolated. She finished flipping through the pages, noting with relief that nothing else seemed particularly worrisome. “It is quieter, then?” she asked at last, closing the ledger. “Have the city’s supply issues had much impact?” If certain things had become rare or scarce within Emillion, she knew that they would have vanished altogether outside of the city. Most small communities were self-sufficient, but some items always had to be imported, and it was these which worried her. It was not strictly a guild problem if trade was interrupted, but she had been taught from a very early age that all things were connected and impacts could resonate further than most people could imagine. “No news from the coast?” she added, thinking again of the sea serpent and whatever had frightened it -- ships were coming in again, but the question of why had never been answered, and things did tend to come back around if they were not neatly resolved. Very little around Emilion was neat recently. “Quieter?” Guy tapped his fingers against his tea cup. The outlands, a large area of villages and tiny hamlets, the picturesque Valendian countryside as it were, always found its own manner of troubles. Out there in the wilds, in the Mist, strange beasts had a habit of picking off the helpless and unfortunate--and there were always bandits and highwaymen to contend with as well, he knew, criminals who thought it best to try their luck outside Emillion’s walls. But as for anything too peculiar… “I suppose things have settled down a bit,” Guy said, shrugging his shoulders. “Although supply caravans have been slow to pick back up. The further out you go, the more difficult it is to acquire city luxuries--and if there are any sicknesses rising up, I suppose demand for potions and medical supplies won’t be met for some time. Trade never goes quite as smoothly out there.” He thought about resting his elbows on the table but, in present company, decided simply to shift around in his chair instead, trying to find the most comfortable sitting position. Keeping still for very long really wasn’t his greatest ability. Guy sipped his tea and wondered briefly over when he would enjoy his next cigarette. Was a leisurely stroll the park in the immediate future, perhaps? His mind went wandering. “Ah, the coastal regions! Fortunately, all that’s been found is a scatter of ruined ships finally washing ashore. The sailors have had only good things to say during Leo.” “I am glad to hear it.” Peony thought, but did not say, that she feared this was only the calm before another storm. Tensions were ebbing at last, but very little felt resolved, and she had far too many unanswered questions to assume the quiet time would last. Still, for now, there was nothing to do but wait. “Thank you,” she said at last with a smile, tucking the ledger away in the bag slung over the back of her chair. She would study it in more detail -- and share it with Merrion -- later this week, time permitting. She took another sip of her tea before adding, “Please do let me know if you encounter anything else unusual. Such as, perhaps, another chocobo of unnatural size. Did you hear this tale already?” she inquired, curious. He had been away for some time, after all. "You're very welcome," he replied. It was no trouble at all to collect bits of information and hearsay on his travels, for who or whatever reason. Guy set his empty tea cup down and perked up at the talk of a giant chocobo. "Why, I can say for sure that I haven't! Would you mind sharing it with me, Councilor? I'll wager it's quite the exciting tale." “I fear I cannot tell it with the same… color as Cyclone,” Peony said with a smile and a shake of the head. “I am led to believe, however, that a chocobo fully twenty feet tall relieved an irate merchant of his wares along the Rydollen High Road and gave a number of our city’s finest quite the battle when they arrived to retrieve the merchandise. Several of them were most gravely injured and remained abed for days after the experience, even with regular healing.” She finished the last of her tea and refilled both cups to drain the last of the teapot’s contents. “Most curious.” “Cyclone, you say?” This time Guy did lean his elbow on the table, resting his chin on one palm as he began to scratch at his beard. For a moment he almost grinned, trying to imagine his student battling an enormous chocobo while he was away (and what would possess her to do such a thing as that, he wondered?), but his interest in the tale turned quickly--keeping from looking too outwardly concerned, he focused his attention on preparing another cup of tea. “And so everyone has already healed well up then?” The spoon clanked against the sides of the cup in echo of his thoughts, turning her words over in his mind. “Indeed. It was she who told me of the occurrence in the first place.” Or at the very least, hers had been the first account Peony had had no choice but to believe. “It appears that all parties are quite recovered. They were unable to capture the bird, unfortunately, but the merchant was appeased.” She took a few moments of comfortable silence to sip at her tea once more. Its mildly sweet flavor and soft, floral fragrance were reminders of home. Should she pick some up for the boys, she wondered? They might be too young yet to appreciate fine tea, but then again… “A lively few weeks, both in the city and out, it seems,” she said at last. “Are you headed out again soon, or will you remain in Emillion awhile?” “I think I’ll stay around for a while,” he said, appearing now slightly more relaxed from her reassurances. Of all the things Guy assumed he would worry about while away, and these things were likely to number far less than anyone might suspect, Cy hadn’t seemed like one of them. He wasn’t sure whether or not he should think the whole thing over or ignore it, but casually discussing the topic of this strange chocobo with her, well--that didn’t seem such a bad idea. “My office in the Tower does tend to collect its share of dust while I’m away,” he admitted. “A little bit of maintenance and upkeep seems like a good idea.” “I wish you a pleasant respite, then,” Peony told him. “Although I suspect this maintenance and upkeep you speak of will involve their own manner of exertion. Do let myself or Merrion know if you require anything while you are here.” She attempted, as much as she could, to remain available for guild members to address their thoughts, ideas and worries to her. Sometimes, very small things turned into signs of issues far more serious and crucial. “Faram willing, our greatest adversaries in the next weeks shall prove to be no more threatening than dust and disorder.” “Thank you,” Guy said. “I do hope you’re right about all of that.” Once he finished his second cup of tea, it was inevitable that he began to fidget again. Dusting off his trousers, he sat up straight and gave Peony a polite nod. “Well, now that I’ve kept you for so long, I believe it’s time for me to go and make my other rounds for the day. I’ll certainly keep you informed if I learn of anything unusual, either here or abroad.” She nodded back, and told him with a smile, “My door is always open. Thank you, once again. Please let me know before you head out again. In the meantime, best of luck with your other business.” She finished her own tea, wiped her already-clean hands on the white linen napkin. “I hate to keep you -- please feel free to go as you need to. I will take the check, as you were kind enough to meet me at my convenience. I hope the rest of your day is pleasant and productive.” After his departure, she lingered for a few more minutes, enjoying the relative quiet before she stood, leaving a pile of gil neatly stacked on the table before she put the strap of her bag back over her shoulder and departed. She, too, had business yet to take care of today. |