05-19-2021, 11:25 AM
There is not a lot that happens in New Tomi that Straia isn’t privy to. You do not become The Pawnbroker without having eyes and ears everywhere, shadows and birds that listen to and learn even the most innocuous things. It is often the lovers on a date, or the parents watching their children at the playground, that have the most interesting things to say.
Like most others, he’s surprised that she was the one in the elevator. They usually are, as they should be. Though really, Straia still believes in getting her own hands dirty. She will not ask others to do her bidding if she is unwilling to do it herself. Besides that, it’s really hard to find trustworthy help and she’d rather not have to worry about her own elevator anymore than she already has to worry about looking behind her back.
His comment redirects her to his organization, and she raises one eyebrow just slightly, though makes no other motion or sound and certainly doesn’t correct herself. It doesn’t particularly matter to her who exactly got her attention, because he is the one in the chair before her now. The fate of his organization rests squarely on his shoulders now, whether he likes it or not. The weight of leadership likely fit him as well as the suit he’d been clearly forced to wear (yes, she does not miss the way he tugs at his lapel), but he seems promising enough in his new role.
She lets him speak, leaning back in her chair, one elbow on the armrest with her long red fingernails resting lightly against her cheek. A smile creases her lips as he makes a joke of his own earlier surprise, and it’s clear enough she’s amused and pleased at the comment. She really does enjoy setting them on edge a bit. There’s a lot to learn from how well someone recovers.
The smile does not disappear as he comes around to his point, but it does sharpen slightly. “If these are impossible things, then why ask for them?” The question is a challenge, and her voice is slightly sharper now as well, her eyes keen as she watches him. “And should I somehow be able to produce such impossible things for you, where do I fit in this world you want to create? Clearly, I do not intend to give up my power and wealth to make the world an equal place.”
Certainly he didn’t expect such, but she needed to know if they had thought this through. Of course it could all be a lie (she expects nothing less from all those she meets), but she would at least like them to have put in the effort to come up with the lie. In truth, the mission of his little organization was one she could support, in at least some respects, but she’d worked far too hard to suddenly just give it all up in the name of equality. But she could support a desire to bring some equality to a place that was far too polarized, a place where the money and power sat in the grubby hands of a handful of sweating, overweight men instead of being used for anything halfway decent. There were enough starving children in the streets that she wouldn’t mind making sure a few more of them actually got fed.
@[Wolfbane]
Like most others, he’s surprised that she was the one in the elevator. They usually are, as they should be. Though really, Straia still believes in getting her own hands dirty. She will not ask others to do her bidding if she is unwilling to do it herself. Besides that, it’s really hard to find trustworthy help and she’d rather not have to worry about her own elevator anymore than she already has to worry about looking behind her back.
His comment redirects her to his organization, and she raises one eyebrow just slightly, though makes no other motion or sound and certainly doesn’t correct herself. It doesn’t particularly matter to her who exactly got her attention, because he is the one in the chair before her now. The fate of his organization rests squarely on his shoulders now, whether he likes it or not. The weight of leadership likely fit him as well as the suit he’d been clearly forced to wear (yes, she does not miss the way he tugs at his lapel), but he seems promising enough in his new role.
She lets him speak, leaning back in her chair, one elbow on the armrest with her long red fingernails resting lightly against her cheek. A smile creases her lips as he makes a joke of his own earlier surprise, and it’s clear enough she’s amused and pleased at the comment. She really does enjoy setting them on edge a bit. There’s a lot to learn from how well someone recovers.
The smile does not disappear as he comes around to his point, but it does sharpen slightly. “If these are impossible things, then why ask for them?” The question is a challenge, and her voice is slightly sharper now as well, her eyes keen as she watches him. “And should I somehow be able to produce such impossible things for you, where do I fit in this world you want to create? Clearly, I do not intend to give up my power and wealth to make the world an equal place.”
Certainly he didn’t expect such, but she needed to know if they had thought this through. Of course it could all be a lie (she expects nothing less from all those she meets), but she would at least like them to have put in the effort to come up with the lie. In truth, the mission of his little organization was one she could support, in at least some respects, but she’d worked far too hard to suddenly just give it all up in the name of equality. But she could support a desire to bring some equality to a place that was far too polarized, a place where the money and power sat in the grubby hands of a handful of sweating, overweight men instead of being used for anything halfway decent. There were enough starving children in the streets that she wouldn’t mind making sure a few more of them actually got fed.
@[Wolfbane]