Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-10-22 22:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, aspel cassul, drake liu |
"Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words, Hundreds of pages, pages, pages for words..."
Who: Aspel & Drake
What: Paperwork because lulz, what else do they ever do?
Where: Aspel’s office in Bahamut Hall
When: Today - Afternoon
Rating: G?
Status: Complete!
She couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that slipped from her lips while looking over the stacks of paperwork laid out in front her on the table she’d set up in her office just for this purpose. How did a stack of paperwork even get that high? One of the stacks alone had to be a good foot and a half tall. Did paper naturally stack that high? The poor trees that it must have come from. How did the Fighter’s Guild manage to have so many forms and still manage to function? Did the law run on paperwork? If paper was eliminated from Ivalice altogether, would the Fighter’s Guild crumble around them that very instant? Between the four stacks, there had to be at least four feet of paper spread out for their mutual review. The first stack were forms that required at least two signatures, Drake not having EKP liaison aspects attached to him seemed easier to grab. The second stack was to do with class approval, and Aspel wished to speak with Drake and obtain his input over the presented options before also including Bram into the fray of ridiculous requests and absurdity that seemed to come any time they attempted to handle classes. The third stack needed all of their attention but Aspel was snatching up Drake and aimed to make an appointment with Bram later. The last stack were items in relation to Monk’s that for some…. Strange, strange reason, had been slotted to her approval process. Now, why these things had come to her, she hadn’t the foggiest and thus, why she’d be redirecting them to Drake if it could be helped. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t have perhaps the precise treat that Drake was looking for but…. Aspel had recalled the box of cookies Drake seemed to be snacking on the time she’d shown up in his office, and while her baking was certainly not on a professional level by any means well… She’d given it a shot regardless and made some cookies for him… Them… To partake in while the gruesome torture of paperwork ruined their daily lives. Hopefully, he’d like them. From the few times she’d baked for him before, Aspel felt like she had a pretty good idea for his taste preferences but… She couldn’t entirely be sure that the raspberry almond shortbreads would quite be to his liking until he tried them of course. ………….. With all of this paperwork why in Faram’s name was she worried about Drake liking cookies? A disgruntled, frustrated, heavy sigh escaped with a hand falling heavily upon the table she was sat at. Picking up her pen again another document was signed off on. Maybe she could distract that nervous feeling causing tightness in her chest by signing her name until her hand hurt once more. It wasn’t a big deal - she’d helped him out with paperwork in the past, and he was pretty sure that her desk had been overflowing by the time her vacation and convalescence leaves were over. It was just paperwork. He’d sit down, pour over parchment, sign on the dotted line. Easy. Nothing more. Which was why he didn’t need to worry. Or feel awkward. It was just work, and the only thing work should make him feel was tired. Maybe annoyed if it was a bad day, but mostly just tired. Instead, he felt hyperalert and had the immediate feeling that maybe he should have worn something a little nicer. Not that what he was wearing wasn’t nice - he’d never understood dressing completely down - but maybe he could have worn a shirt that fit a little better. And had sleeves. But it wouldn’t have made sense, since he’d promised to spar with some of the younger squires prior to meeting with Aspel. Comfort had take precedence over appearance; it would be easier to explain his tunic than to explain to a group of fourteen year old boys that he wanted to look nice for a girl. Which really wasn’t what it was about at all. At least, he really didn’t think it was. And he really, really hoped it wasn’t. Rather than think about it more extensively - because he was sure he could do that for hours - he knocked on the door. “Aspel?” The pen she’d been holding scratched against the paper, her hand already beginning to tire from the papers she’d started working on signing that still needed Drake’s secondary signature when a knock and a voice broke the silence. “Yes?” Then it clicked. Drake. Right, of course. Who else would it have been at this time? “Ah, come in please.” A hand gestured to a seat at the table she’d placed specifically for him. “I fear we shall have a long day ahead of us yet with,” a somewhat defeated and frustrated look was given to the paperwork stacked high on the table still, “this.” Sighing, she placed the pen down, raising her hand and shaking it out a bit. “I pray your manual fortitude is of considerable prowess with the work we are still sure to face.” The first thought that popped into his head upon opening the door and seeing the stacks of papers was Have fun with that! But then he remembered that it would still make its way back to him, and Aspel had requested his company. So he gave the paperwork a defeated glance, shut the door behind him, and took a seat beside Aspel. “Long day is one way to put it,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Pretty sure it’s going to be a long night.” Which actually didn’t seem like a bad idea, but he pushed the thought away. Aspel was a friend. And someone he went out with. On occasion. Nothing else. “I’m assuming the piles are themed? Where do you want me to start?” He really, really hoped she wanted him to start on the smallest pile. That would have been nice. But he also knew that putting off the huge one until the end was just going to annoy him and he’d keep staring at it. So maybe that one would be the one to start on? Or maybe that was specifically her pile. Which was a possibility; they all had individual responsibilities. “I’m going to need food.” “A long day and eve,” Her voice was absent, seeming to ponder the words, to test them out in her own mind and mouth. “that would seem a reasonable conclusion, correct.” Though a night of signing forms certainly wasn’t how she’d really like to spend a long night at all. There were… So many much better ways in which one could… Amuse and occupy themselves if it were with... Eyes fell upon Drake, he was a terribly handsome man. “Correct.” Aspel assured him, at his guesses regarding the mounds of paperwork they would soon be sharing. A gesture was made towards one. “Dual signature,” a wave of a hand at a second “courses,” a nod of her chin toward the third “all signatures required, which I plan on unceremoniously dropping upon Bram’s desk at the soonest opportunity, and finally” the smallest pile was motioned towards. “misdirected forms that are related to Monk requirements. You may start where ever you feel best suited, but” A finger pointed back towards the foot and a half stack. “That is for courses,” the next tallest stack. “dual signature” the second shortest “triple signature” and of course, the last he already knew. “I would advise perhaps the course based documents be first while we still have the heads to power through their suspected non-sense.” Sighing, a glance was taken off to one side, her gaze lingering in that direction as she began to speak once more. “Would you care to create a reward system again?” “Monk requirements going to the Sentinel.” Drake laughed. “Makes sense to me.” He grabbed the a pile of course documents and set them in front of him. He’d made sure to bring a pen, not wanting to impose on Aspel. Some people were touchy about their office supplies - he’d learned recently after his paperclips had disappeared that he was one of them - and hadn’t wanted to find out if Aspel was one of them. He was about to start reading through the first document when Aspel made her suggestion. Leaning back, he grinned. “Could be fun,” he agreed. “Now, what are the milestones and what’s the rewards?” He side-eyed her. “Or,” he drawled, “we could make it more interesting.” For a brief moment, he forgot who he was talking with, but before he could make the suggestion, his brain caught up with his mouth. “Whoever gets through the most takes the loser out to dinner?” It would be another date-like thing, but he was really just trying not to think about that at the moment. After all, he was sitting pretty close to her, and if he started thinking about the dress she had worn to the Sackheim - which, admittedly, he thought about more often than he cared to admit - things were going to get awkward fast. “I am still attempting to calculate if they are hinting I should undergo a class change, or if they simply feel you look and act the part of Sentinel more than I.” While Aspel was fairly certain that wasn’t the case at all, it still offered amusement for at least a few seconds. An eyebrow quirked, something quite intimately curious as to just what precisely Drake was about to propose. Then the offer was delivered, and the smith couldn’t help a low amused “Heh-mm.” Shifting, she leaned forward slightly retrieving a section of a stack for herself. “That would quite aptly trump the cookies I was to offer, I suppose we must adhere to your suggestion then, no?” There was an obvious tease, a playful taunt of a sort as her eyes locked down on the paperwork before her, and she began reading through it, almost as if Drake wasn’t there at all. “I’d make a pretty good Sentinel,” he joked. He knew, in actuality, that he would make a terrible Sentinel. While he could take a beating, he just wasn’t cut out for the job. How Aspel handled it, over and over and over, he would never know. And how she wasn’t laid up more often than she was was just one of those mysteries of the world, he supposed. “Cookies?” Drake noticeably perked up. “Cookies are good. I like cookies. Especially your cookies.” He gave Aspel his most charming grin. “After all, sugar will keep us going. Cheerfully.” He paused. “Well, maybe not cheerfully, but at least not entertaining thoughts of burning all the paperwork in front of us.” He signed the first document - offering a wider variety of weapons classes for the squires seemed like a good idea - and placed it off to the side before starting on the next one. “You do often throw yourself needlessly in the way.” Another teasing quip back, and Aspel couldn’t help but feel terribly amused all around between his commentary and the sudden change in disposition at mention of sweets. “Yes, cookies.” Pausing a moment, Aspel then shifted, leaning over to retrieve a tin from a drawer. “I pray you are not allergic to raspberries or almonds.” With that, the raspberry almond shortbread cookies would be uncovered and the tin placed on the table between them. With that, the smith simply shifted, internally praying he’d like them while her eyes began to roam another document regarding additional armor proficiency courses across all classes. Additionally training in that regard certainly couldn’t hurt. And a signature it earned. “Only on Tuesdays,” he disagreed, eyeing the cookies. Before he said anything else, he grabbed one and popped it in his mouth. The raspberries and almonds were a nice combination, and the shortbread was delicious and buttery. “Oh man,” he sighed, practically moaning. “These are the best cookies ever.” He’d have to be careful to not say that around Rene; Rene might take it as a challenge. Actually, that probably wasn’t a bad idea. It would mean more cookies for him. He was really going to go on a diet. Soon. Eventually. He looked over at Aspel, grabbed another cookie, and grinned. “You’re going to owe me dinner, Cassul.” “Only? Ah, I seem to have miscalculated our last several battles together then, my apologies.” A taunt of a sorts if she’d ever given one. Though, the noise the cookies earned from the man next to her did cause a pause in her paperwork, eyebrows rising and Aspel had to instil the steely grip of self control in order to not instantly look up at him. Though… The thought of suggesting they lock the door, clear the table and re-organize the paperwork later certainly did cross her mind. “Is that so?” Her voice came out even, though a single raised brow could not be denied regardless of how well she schooled herself otherwise. However, the commentary about dinner caused Aspel to crack a smile regardless of herself. “Then I advise you catch up.” A nod of her head was offered to some papers she’d been working through before he joined. “I believe once again - much like with the balloon game - I have quite the head start.” |