Interlude – War of Words - Part 5
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Arrival Thomas Whitlock
Post Details
ON:
OLD:
Gral shook his head, making his earring jump and swing. "Like I said, he came up to me in Qu'its. Didn't make too many introductions. Said I'd only see him again if I didn't do the job quick. So I did." He grinned. "Gossip on the promenade says I wasn't too far from the truth either."
Thomas looked at him and smiled. "Thanks for your cooperation," he said, turning and starting to walk away.
"Hey! I want my money." Gral made a grab for it as Thomas turned away.
"What?" Thomas asked, turning to face the boy again. "Oh, right. I'm a man of my word," he said as he handed the latinum to the boy. "There's more where that came from if you happen to come across anything else that may be of interest," he added as he turned and walked away from the boy, weaving through the crowds.
-----
NEW:
Thomas paused outside the Box of Delights and took a deep breath. He was ready for this escapade to be over. He straightened his clothes as much as possible and stepped inside, looking for Yolanthe.
She was helping the Bajoran bartender to take chairs off the tables near the bar, ready for opening. "-which means that crap will still be up there when the Ambassador arrives." She was telling him. "Its just one disaster after another."
When she realised Thomas was there she stopped suddenly. She took in his slightly disheveled appearance and reddened knuckles, and promptly turned a mint green. "Are you all right? What happened to you?"
"I'm fine," he said to her as he moved to a chair and sat down. "Ever hear of someone named Gral Leffin?" he asked her.
Yolanthe rescued a napkin and an ice bucket from the counter, and made up an ice pack. "No. Who is he, she, it?" She wrapped the ice pack around his hand.
"A minor thug," Thomas said to her. "He has a history of defacing properties, especially those with Cardassian ties."
"I hardly have links to the Cardassians. They come in and buy drinks. By that measure I have links to the Romulans, the Bajorans, the Nausicaans, the Humans and every other species on this whole damn station." She put another chair onto the floor. "So why do it to me?"
"He was hired to do it," Thomas said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Some guy approached him and paid him to do it."
"Who? Why?" sat down on the chair, next to Thomas. "Did he say?" She racked her brains to think of who might possibly want to pay to see her bar graffittied.
"All he said was that the guy was wrinkled and looked like a mole," Thomas said to her. "I didn't get a name."
Her shoulders sagged, "So near yet so far." She pushed a hand through her hair. "Sounds like an Yridian, but I don't think I've ever met one, let alone done anything to piss one off enough for that." She waved her hand at the Bajorran insults engraved in her windows.
"I did the best I could," Thomas said to her, feeling like he'd let her down. "If there's anything else I can do just let me know," he added.
She patted him on the uninjured hand. "I'm thrilled you did that well. I wasn't expecting you to find even that much. I didn't think there would be that much to find."
"What are you going to do now?" Thomas asked her.
Yolanthe drummed her fingers on the table. Inspiration hit and she turned to a summery blue. "Its not what I'm going to do, its what you're going to do."
"I don't know if I like the sound of that," Thomas said, looking at her. "What do you have in mind?"
"Oh, don't worry. Its nothing dangerous." She grinned. "Mr Mole Face wants to hide? Well, I'm not going to play that game. "You're a journalist. Publish the story. 'Mysterious villain persecutes innocent business woman' or some such. See how he likes that."
Thomas looked at her for a moment and smiled. "I like the way you think," he said with a smile. "I'll have to run it by my boss but there shouldn't be a problem."
She went a deeper shade of blue. "Thank you. I owe you one."
"We can discuss that when this is settled," he said with a smile. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
She shook her head. "Just publish and be damned!"
Thomas looked at her for a moment and nodded. "I'll go talk to my editor and see about getting it out tomorrow," he said, standing up. "If you need me for anything just let me know."
:OFF:
Thomas Whitlock
FNS Reporter
&
Yolanthe Ibalin
Owner, The Box of Delights
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Arrival Thomas Whitlock
Post Details
| Title | War of Words - Part 5 | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Arrival Thomas Whitlock | |
| Posted | Thu Jul 01, 2010 @ 9:34pm | |
| Location | The Box of Delights | |
| Timeline | SD 25 - early evening |
OLD:
Gral shook his head, making his earring jump and swing. "Like I said, he came up to me in Qu'its. Didn't make too many introductions. Said I'd only see him again if I didn't do the job quick. So I did." He grinned. "Gossip on the promenade says I wasn't too far from the truth either."
Thomas looked at him and smiled. "Thanks for your cooperation," he said, turning and starting to walk away.
"Hey! I want my money." Gral made a grab for it as Thomas turned away.
"What?" Thomas asked, turning to face the boy again. "Oh, right. I'm a man of my word," he said as he handed the latinum to the boy. "There's more where that came from if you happen to come across anything else that may be of interest," he added as he turned and walked away from the boy, weaving through the crowds.
-----
NEW:
Thomas paused outside the Box of Delights and took a deep breath. He was ready for this escapade to be over. He straightened his clothes as much as possible and stepped inside, looking for Yolanthe.
She was helping the Bajoran bartender to take chairs off the tables near the bar, ready for opening. "-which means that crap will still be up there when the Ambassador arrives." She was telling him. "Its just one disaster after another."
When she realised Thomas was there she stopped suddenly. She took in his slightly disheveled appearance and reddened knuckles, and promptly turned a mint green. "Are you all right? What happened to you?"
"I'm fine," he said to her as he moved to a chair and sat down. "Ever hear of someone named Gral Leffin?" he asked her.
Yolanthe rescued a napkin and an ice bucket from the counter, and made up an ice pack. "No. Who is he, she, it?" She wrapped the ice pack around his hand.
"A minor thug," Thomas said to her. "He has a history of defacing properties, especially those with Cardassian ties."
"I hardly have links to the Cardassians. They come in and buy drinks. By that measure I have links to the Romulans, the Bajorans, the Nausicaans, the Humans and every other species on this whole damn station." She put another chair onto the floor. "So why do it to me?"
"He was hired to do it," Thomas said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Some guy approached him and paid him to do it."
"Who? Why?" sat down on the chair, next to Thomas. "Did he say?" She racked her brains to think of who might possibly want to pay to see her bar graffittied.
"All he said was that the guy was wrinkled and looked like a mole," Thomas said to her. "I didn't get a name."
Her shoulders sagged, "So near yet so far." She pushed a hand through her hair. "Sounds like an Yridian, but I don't think I've ever met one, let alone done anything to piss one off enough for that." She waved her hand at the Bajorran insults engraved in her windows.
"I did the best I could," Thomas said to her, feeling like he'd let her down. "If there's anything else I can do just let me know," he added.
She patted him on the uninjured hand. "I'm thrilled you did that well. I wasn't expecting you to find even that much. I didn't think there would be that much to find."
"What are you going to do now?" Thomas asked her.
Yolanthe drummed her fingers on the table. Inspiration hit and she turned to a summery blue. "Its not what I'm going to do, its what you're going to do."
"I don't know if I like the sound of that," Thomas said, looking at her. "What do you have in mind?"
"Oh, don't worry. Its nothing dangerous." She grinned. "Mr Mole Face wants to hide? Well, I'm not going to play that game. "You're a journalist. Publish the story. 'Mysterious villain persecutes innocent business woman' or some such. See how he likes that."
Thomas looked at her for a moment and smiled. "I like the way you think," he said with a smile. "I'll have to run it by my boss but there shouldn't be a problem."
She went a deeper shade of blue. "Thank you. I owe you one."
"We can discuss that when this is settled," he said with a smile. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
She shook her head. "Just publish and be damned!"
Thomas looked at her for a moment and nodded. "I'll go talk to my editor and see about getting it out tomorrow," he said, standing up. "If you need me for anything just let me know."
:OFF:
Thomas Whitlock
FNS Reporter
&
Yolanthe Ibalin
Owner, The Box of Delights