#truth bee told

[ruzalorne]

ᴏʜ, ғᴏʀ ғᴜᴄᴋ's sᴀᴋᴇ

So.. many posters. Were they kidding right now? Did anyone believe in going out and talking to anyone anymore? Standing in front of the wall that called out for various things, some calling to come home, some shaming another, some with hope, another chastising? Really? She lifts her hands and allows them to fall at her sides in utter defeat, an exhaustedly frustrated sigh escaping her lips. 

“Shortsighted ding bats,” she utters against her tea to absolutely no one in particular. 

With a shake of her head, sending her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders in a wildly haphazard manner, the demure woman turns onto the balls of her feet, lifting almost to the tips of her toes. Back to the wall of antagonists and paper pushers, she moves along to take care of the rest of her day. Be gone.

[ruzalorne]

 ❗ A sandy gaze falls towards the side of his face, their usual morning seats at the Maiden already warmed. Coffee flowed and the chatter was low at such an early hour. "So, Miss Lorne, you've seemed to be quite the observant and analytical sort. You flow in so many circles, but seem to simply move at your own pace and desire. What is it that -you- want, you seem to simply guide the rest of but seldom mention yourself."

Her spoon stirs her tea idly, making sure that the honey she’d dipped in is incorporated thoroughly. Better to make sure before the cream cools down everything, right? Blue eyes shift to Farad curiously for his question, drawing a scrunch of her brows in consideration and the urge to reject something mentioned. She treats her tea with a splash of cream instead before she seeks to reply.

“I mean.. I am doing what I want when I guide everyone. For all the times I say that the ministry members as a whole tends to work by themselves and only themselves and then the community.. I mean it. I want that to stop because it’s childish and stupid.”  The young woman pauses to take a sip from her cup, testing the flavor of her creation. Perfect. “How can any of us really say that we’re doing anything for the queendom when we’re only watching our own backs and the ministry and Kryta comes second? You’re a former soldier and you know the truth behind being on a battlefield. If a fellow soldier is only about themselves, they’re as good as dead. The whole group might as well be because that means they’re down one. Imagine the whole-- quote unquote-- team doing that.” Her tea sets down, shifting her gaze to Farad, her brow arching. “That’s not a leader, it’s a tyrant no matter the district. So fuck Kryta when you have someone like that, right?”  She pauses, her face crinkling just as her hand lifts to pinch at the bridge of her nose. A trembling breath leaves her lips.  “I want to truly see a united Kryta, and I see very little proof that anyone means it when they say it. It’s empty words from people that only seek popularity.”

[ruzalorne]

❗re:. Mercer

“Uhm.. You didn’t ask a question or make a statement for me to deny or claim so... Mercer, you’re a good guy. That’s the truth.”

[ruzalorne]

❗ "There was a little black book with *very* personal infermation in it. Where did it go?" The Commander would be tossing a dagger up in the air, catching it by the handle each time; the threat was a little more than obvious.

She had come in chipper, as always, and yet she never seemed to walk into a chipper office. Such was the life with Kass. Today, though. Today was different. The dagger was a new edition, and Ruza pays little attention to it as she leans over the Commander’s desk to hand over her documents for the morning (half of which would be burned before lunch). And then.

“Book?” She squeaks suddenly, her hand knocking over the quill stand when she withdraws it.

Play it cool. Right? It’s not that book. It can’t be. She wasn’t even in the office yet this morning. And.. okay, so she closed the office last night and cleaned the desk. Her brain started working in a hardcore overtime, trying to recall what book Kass was talking about. 

Play. It. Cool.

“Book. Uh. Black little one. Is it the one I put in your center drawer for safe keeping?”  Please be that book and not that book.

[ruzalorne]

❗ from Tassa: “Your thoughts on the current state of the Ministry.”

Oh. Words. To make sure that she had the right words for what was tumbling around in that chaotic mind of hers. Her bright blue eyes veer toward the blonde, darting across her face thoroughly.

“Everyone is playing in their own corners by themselves. There’s hope for some, and far less for others.”

[ruzalorne]

Finally.

Time to relax with a glass of wine and read a recent release. Lounging back on her balcony in an oversized hammock (far too large for her), glass in hand, and the newest issue transcribed to her device, she loosens a satisfied hum.

She settles in. A sip is taken, and then another with a chuckle. 

And then she sits up.

“... Ohp.”

[ruzalorne]

A Responding Correspondence

Vice Legate,

Your flowers​ are received with appreciation and will look lovely in the Ministry Guard's breakroom.

It is with the hopes to be clear that there is no intention to hesitate in reaching out should any need arise, though it will be kept in mind.

The apology, however, is moot unless you're able to clean it up and show other ministry members and citizens their due respect. Action speaks louder than words, and your future actions will result in my own.

Secretary Lorne is happy to make any arrangements should you need my further assistance. Lessons or otherwise.

With Respect, Commander Kassandra Valoroso

[ruzalorne]

[ bump ] - Tassa Solomonari

It’s in her highest opinion that this place had the best sugar doughnuts. And that meant that she was starting to get a regular order. Placing said order of a black tea with cream, and an even larger order or those amazing little snacky snacks, she grabs the cup and heads on over to the patio. There’s a perfect little seat next to the street that lets her watch everything wake up for the day.

It’s in that wake up that she watches a few people wandering through the slowly growing crowds in the promenade. And one that catches her attention for the sake of just a feeling. Some one wasn’t paying attention. Was it the set up of a blonde joke? Uncertainly hangs in the air, suspended and and nervous; a shaking chihuahua wondering if it’s going to run or swoop in for the train wreck.

And she can’t look away.

Once her cup finds the counter again, bright blue eyes find the woman again and she refuses to look away to anyone else. The blonde has her nose in a book about plants. A book that, clearly, has complete and utter control of her her attention.

And Ruza was so incredibly ready to see that her suspicions were correct. Bam! The poor thing swiftly meets a pole with her shoulder, causing her to stumble on her steps. Though her attention still remains! There’s shock in her gaze, and a giggle she forces down.

Never you mind the full on laugh that erupts from her lips when she hears the apology from Tassa to the pole. The honeyed woman melts onto her own table in a fit of snickering just as her doughnuts arrive and she snags a few to chase after the blonde to make sure she makes it home without walking herself off a cliff!