The tall, slender Kurzick woman who stepped through the gate into bright Southsun sunshine didn’t exactly look ready for the beach. There was no attempt to blend with the warm-weather revelers. Instead, she wore a form-fitting Consortium uniform, pressed and equipped with the correct credentials, certainly enough for her to blend in with that aspect of the island. A few idle questions led her to Mr. McGregor, owner of the rented houseboats at the island’s edge. Before her conversation with him, she switched back into simple garb, black and plain - and it was to him that she put the simple question,
“Where might I find Miss Gemma? Or, failing that, could someone tell her that she has a visitor?”
The home of Mr. McGregor was located off the far right of the main island, not too far from the main tourist area but far enough to garner some peace and quiet, his beach house located upon a dun covered in sand grass overlooking a single long dock lined with boats for rent- no doubt a place for visitors to come and pay some coin to borrow a boat for the day to go gallivanting out on the crystal ocean waters.
⏰ - Does your muse feel like they need to do things quickly or do they take their time?
“There’s a point when research becomes futile, and for a researcher, there’s a talent in knowing when you’ve passed that point of futility. I don’t perform tasks either quickly or slowly – I perform them thoroughly, right up to that point after which more work is useless. Whoever’s hired me? They know how well I do when time for thoroughness is offered.”
Thank you @camilledashwood and @luxelen! Loooong RP log after the cut:
Karla: Dean, Dylan, and Declan are all out, and only Camille staffs the office. There's a creak at the door -- someone entering -- and a woman crosses the lobby to greet Camille. She's tall, very slender, a Kurzick woman dressed modestly in all black. There's something severe in her stance, almost military, and she offers Camille a respectful nod before asking, "Miss Dashwood, isn't it?"
Camille looked up from her desk. "Yes, can I help you?" she replied cordially, "Do you have an appointment?"
Karla: "I don't, though I'm hoping you'll be able to help me. It's you I'm here to see." She offers a gloved hand to shake. "Karla Braunfels. I'm an investigator."
Camille: Bright blue eyes blinked at Karla. "-Me?" she replied with mild confusion. She rose from her chair to shake her hand. "Camille Dashwood." She offered a small cant of her head.
Karla: "You," Karla said with a nod. "Your employers shouldn't return for another hour, given their meeting. Would you like to talk here, or would somewhere more private be available?" Her manner isn't really friendly - she hasn't cracked a smile - but it's very self-assured.
Camille flashed a somewhat nervous smile. "I...well, there's a conference room? I am the only one here, so I can't leave until one of the other secretaries returns or one of the Lord Larkspurs."
Karla: "Then let's sit here," Karla said. "I'd rather we talk without the lords in evidence." She sits smoothly and adjusts her long black skirt even though it's straight and spotless.
Camille: A hesitant nod was given. "Of course..." Camille replied and took a seat in her chair. "Can I get you anything? Some coffee or water?"
Karla: "Coffee, please. Black." Camille would definitely have the sense of being observed, as if the other woman is taking her measure in detail. While waiting for the coffee, Karla slips a notebook and a small asura hologram projector from her pocket. Both await Camille's return.
Camille nodded and rose from her desk to walk across the office, her heeled shoes lightly clicking against the wooden floors. From her body language, it was clear she was perhaps a bit intimidated by the woman. She returned with two cups and handed one to Karla before retaking her seat. She smoothed her skirt and crossed a leg over the other, sweeping a piece of strawberry blonde hair off her brow. "So, how can I be of help, Ms. Braunfels?"
Karla: "Well, you're already being very kind," Karla says in apparent reassurance. "This should only take a few moments." She sips coffee and then poises her pen over her little notebook. "How long have you worked for Lord Declan?"
Camille: She offered another nod. "Oh, I don't work for Lord Declan. I work for Lord Dean Larkspur," she replied calmly. "Lord Declan has his own assistant, as does Lord Dylan."
Karla: "But you're familiar with Lord Declan, I assume, given the size of the office? Let me ask differently then: how long have you worked for Lord Dean?"
Camille: "Of course," Camille replied, "I have worked here for...going on two years now, I believe."
Karla: "Perfect," says Karla with an approving smile. She reaches forward to tap the side of the little holoprojector. It's a gadget the size of the palm of her hand, and once she's turned it on, a picture springs to life. It's hazy, fuzzy, but still recognizable: it's a young woman, dark-haired, very beautiful, with a dress that doesn't leave much to the imagination. She could be any number of pretty ladies who associate with high society. "Does she look familiar?" Karla asks.
Camille studied the picture carefully and furrowed her brow in thought. "Perhaps a little?" she replied, "but I couldn't tell you her name...I think I've seen her at some events and things, perhaps."
Karla: "Her name is Sophia. Lady Sophia Bramwell. An Ascalonian noblewoman who's been living in the Reach for the last year." She smiles thinly. "Her father, Lord John Bramwell, hasn't wanted to risk harm to his wife or daughter from either Charr or separatists." There's a pause, no doubt purposeful, before she says, "Lady Sophia accuses Lord Declan of being the father of her unborn child." She watches Camille for a reaction.
Camille didn’t look terribly shocked. "I can't say I'm terribly shocked. Lord Declan is sort of ah..renowned for being...promiscuous."
Karla: She makes a note. "Lord Bramwell plans to petition the Larkspurs to have Declan marry Lady Sophia," she says. Again, she watches for Camille's reaction.
Camille: Again, Camille doesn't look terribly shocked. "I can't say I blame Lord Bramwell. I am sure he wishes to keep his daughter's reputation and honor."
Karla: "He does," she says, not betraying any opinion of her own. "You've worked closely with the Larkspurs for some time now. What do you think his chances are of success?" There's a delicate pause before she adds, "And how happy do you think Lady Sophia would have a chance of being?"
Camille considered the questions and then visibly grimaced a bit. "If you want me to be quite honest..? I can't say how Lord Declan's father will react, but I am sure he would be happy to see his son married--especially given the circumstances. However..." there was a brief pause, " I...would say that her chances of being happy are likely low. Lord Declan is...he can be very charming, to be sure, but he's been known for being reckless and a flirt. And I think some of his..advances on women, were not always welcomed. -Don't misunderstand me, I dont mean to imply he did anything as horrible as forcing himself on anyone, but Lord Dylan has spoken about incidents where sexual harassment was involved. If he married, I don't think his behavior would likely change much."
Karla's expression doesn't shift, but again she makes a note. "This is assuming that Lady Sophia's child was actually sired by Lord Declan." She glances up to meet Camille's gaze, as if trying to convey more than she's willing to speak aloud. "Is it too much to ask that you not tell the Lords Larkspur about this conversation?"
Camille: There was a bit of hesitation before Camille nodded her head. "Yes, of course...is there anything else I can help you with?"
Karla: "Just a couple more questions. You're being very helpful." She flips to a new page. "Has Lord Declan ever acted inappropriately toward you?"
Camille: "He's made a remark or two but otherwise, no," she replied. "I think he gave up when I kept putting him off."
Karla: "And to your knowledge, has he ever sired other bastards?" She speaks the words calmly. Again, her expression doesn’t shift from a cool serenity.
Camille: "Not that I'm aware of, no. I've never heard any mention of it, if so."
Karla: With that, Karla closes her notebook. She slides a thick, professionally printed card across the desk that reads, "K. Braunfels Investigations, Lion's Arch."
"You've been exceptionally helpful. Should you need anything -- or notice anything relevant to the Bramwells’ hopes for their daughter -- would you contact me?"
Camille took the card and tucked it into her desk drawer. "I can do that, yes. Though I think it unlikely I hear anything, but all the same."
Karla: "Thank you, Miss Dashwood." Karla stands and inclines her head again. "All I hope for is happiness for the child." And with that, she strides out of the office and into bright sunshine.
Camille: "I'm glad I was of help. Have a good day," Camille replied before the woman took her leave.
🌎 - Does your muse want to change the world? How would they go about it? (Karla)
“Of course I do. It’s why I do as I do. It’s why I take the cases of women who are beaten, who are jailed. Children who are separated from their people. The poor who are trod upon. The…” Her voice trails off, and when she speaks again, she meets the questioner’s eyes with a steady, unsentimental gaze. “And then there are the cases I accept to earn coin. And cases I accept to earn accolades and credit. I am not altruistic. But…I am compassionate. Is that enough?”
Your sister and Rudolf Kurchek are planning to announce their betrothal at a small gathering at the house on 45 Zephyr. You are expected. If you wish to bring an associate, you are welcome to do so, but do remember the high standards of the Kurcheks and our hopes for Rudolf and Mila.
If you could abstain from telling tales of sordid crimes, we would all be most appreciative. Formal dress, dear. Something that flatters you.
Mother
Embossed black lettering on the pale green, heavy stationery reads: “From the Desk of Frieda Weber Braunfels, Overdale, Kryta”
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