@paramliv ♥’d for a long due starter.
𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑮𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑷𝑹𝑨𝑬𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑨𝑵𝑺 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑹𝑼𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮, nor will they be for awhile with how often their Praefect was pulled out of office for several back to back month long expeditions. About anyone Zarosian would tell you that that branch did not play with security and that was exactly why Paramliv would be escorted into their allotted spaces by a heavily robed, armored, and masked guard - for the sake of upholding secrecy. Just to pick up late paperwork. A SHAME.
It was hard to ever tell if the Praefectus was on site, staying elusive outside being at the occasional ceremony or celebration in fancy official robes, far away from most and closer to the higher ups. For more security. He was at this moment, for information extortion from a DISSENTER. They had to meet him face to face in one of the most informal circumstances; plain robes, a thick apron with concerning and ruddy stains on it.
“It’s not my office,” he says with a sigh and regarding a long cold cup of tea as if staring at it just might REHEAT it. “I don’t think I remember your name, as I don’t allow Tribunes into the Praetorium without explicit, necessary reasons.” He looks as tired as an OFFICAL would be despite his public demeanor. “But my brother sent you and I would like to know,” there’s a particularly loud HOWL from somewhere down the hall and it’s as if it doesn’t even register to him as he continues, “-why I am being pestered. No offense to you and yours.” Sliske turns over a paperweight with surprisingly well polished claws and licks his lips, his tongue is just as forked and black as the rumours say.
