|| @characternerdocs || continued from here ||
Logan eyed the dripping coffee as she took the opposite seat of the ranger. She had a thermos of her own dirty bean water, which was probably lukewarm by now, nowhere near the hot, fragrant, fresh pot that was brewing now.
But she wasn’t sent here to sample the local coffee. (She make that her second priority.)
She dragged her backpack in front of her feet as she began to rummage through its content, the dog that accompanied her attentively watched, perhaps in hopes Logan would produce a treat, or perhaps a toy. “Well, my assignment at your park was based on the odd and unexplained activities. But rangers being drunk, while not my area to looking to... isn’t ideal to hear.” As she straightened up in her seat once finding her documents, the hair the hung over the right side of Logan’s face shifted and for a fleeting moment the ranger could see the pink scarring where her eye had once been.
Logan handed over her licenses, ranging from calling her an anthropologist, a cryptozoologist, to a field researcher all of which were stamped and authorized by a Smithes Scholars’ Archives. “I hope that’s proof enough I’m not a fanatic.” A coy smirk raising her scarred lips as Logan reaches back into her bag. In truth Logan would call herself a fanatic, it still seemed strange and unreal to her she was employed to invested and study what “normal” people regarded as fakery and myth; finding proof in the legends her grandmother told her at bedtime. it was unbelievable, but Logan loved it. Still smiling to herself, she pulling out a pen and notebook, and a doggy biscuit she tossed to her now very pleased dog.
“And you can call me Logan, if you like. And you? are you a stickler for the formality of Ranger Stone?”
“Hardly, it’s just the card I play ta new faces ta gauge ‘em.” Thankfully, Logan didn’t seem like she walked with a stick up her ass. “You’n call me Jewel.”
At a glance, one would think Jewel barely read through the files, but despite her casual leafing she skimmed with a careful eye. The information matched up with the agency Boss reached out to. “Looks good ta me, Logan.”
Handing the agent her files, Jewel stood and scooped her bottle up. She passively wondered what happened to her eye but thought it better not to ask. They’d only just met and it really wasn’t any of her business. Best to not delve into the personal lives of strangers, she concluded to herself.
“I s’pose we’ll get started then. Follow me.”
In her office, alphabetically organized files filled the wooden shelves that lined her walls at either side. Heading left, she knelt down to the S section and pulled its container out. “This’s the past happenin’s of supernatural occurrences this year. Some are jus’ reports from tourists but we got some in there from our own officers ‘ere as well. Some of ‘em got photos but don’t hold yer breath. A snow-caked fir and a yeti look pretty similar when all ya got’s adrenaline and a cruddy flashlight in the dead a’night.”
Plopping the file bin on her desk, Jewel parked it in her big, comfy chair and gave it a swivel as she perched a boot up on her work station. Gifting herself a long drag off her bottle, she gestured at the opposing bookcase. “You’n peek through those too. That one’s lined with missing persons and murders over the last century or so. Some of ‘em are… somethin’.”
“Matter fac’,” She added, “I should get on filin’ a report a’my own. Somethin’s been fuckin’ with my trail markers and I’ve about had it with whatever shit-stirrer’s out there. Human, creature, whatever. Need it gone because it’s makin’ my life a frostier hell than it needs ta be!”