Well he was bored. So what? That didn't make him any less of a person. Boredom simply made you so bored you'd think your head fell off and if it ACTUALLY DID that would be a dream. If it WAS a dream you’d be thinking it would be a nightmare. If it WAS a nightmare, well bully for you. You were damn screwed.

...

Oh my god, he needed to get out of the office and get some fresh air. He needed time. Time to… THINK.

…

LESS TIME THINKING, MORE TIME BASHING HIS HEAD AGAINST TREE TRUNKS. He was staring to sound like this freaking lunatic steward or assistant or WHATEVERUNPERPAIDPERSONUNDERHIM who's mind just SNAPPED like a... like... um...

...

...

TOO MANY THOUGHTS. He had risen from his desk and went outside, nearly running over said underpaid aide whose glasses were askew from HADRIAN NEARLY RUNNING HIM OVER LIKE A GIGANTIC PITCHER OF JUICE THAT BASHED THROUGH WALLS.

...

That was FREAKING AWESOME.

IN ANY CASE NOW THAT HE WAS OUTSIDE, he could WALK around NOW without getting assailed with 'When will our homes be rebuilt' and all that paper-y stuff. Granted the riot sucked and killed his schedule BIG TIME (HATEHATEHATE), but he HAD rebounded, or tried to.

Penril was in lessons, so he didn't have much to do except... well, drift.

Drift, drift, drift. Drift like a piece of driftwood who got lost and wanted to return to the big lumberyard in the SKY.

...

Did anyone PAUSE to think that the pitcher's rim might not have a cover? Building blocks would fall in the damn PITCHER'S OPEN HEAD. So if kids would THEN drink out of said pitcher’s open, idiot head, that would mean they’d be poisoned and all, so that would either mean it was the pitcher’s fault or…

((Well, if no one else is going to reply.... >_>))

Seyira was not in a good mood. The days after the riot had been difficult, to say the least, primarily because she'd left all that was familiar to her for some foreign city with only a few coins to her name, in the mere hopes that she might get to see the king. Luckily, most businesses had needed extra help rebuilding, so she'd earned some money - as well as food and shelter - for a week or so. That was when most of the hired hlep had been dismissed, her included. She'd made enough to last her a few days at a moderfately well-off inn, but she needed a job. Fast.

She supposed she could have searched out her mistress's people but she didn't want to espend the time or the effort that venture would require. because it would most likely be wasted. Ghayth folk were so secretive, especially in the capital of Olencia.

So now she was powling around the city, trying to find someplace, or even some place, any place, that could offer her a job and a roof over her head. She was a healthy young woman with assorted skills, though most of them were ones she didn't particularly care to advertise. But still, she shouldn't have that much trouble finding a job of some sort.

Seyira was peering through a window, trying to decided if it was the type of place that she could bear to work in, when she flet a slight tug on her belt. Instinctively, her hand shot out and latched on to something warm and soft. She looked down. A young begger boy, probably no more than ten years old, was trying to free himself from her igron grip. Seyira smiled mirthlessly. She might be a woman, but that didn't mean she was soft or weak.

In any other situation, she would have let him go, as they were both of the same stock. But today, she was already in a bad mood, and the fact that this little twerp had just tried to make off with her only source of funds only seved to make her bad mood worse.

"Lemme go! Lemme go! I didn't do nuthin'!" The boy squirmed and writhed, but she was determined not to relinquish her grip on him.

"Not a chance, little guy."

Looking across the way, she spotted a dignified man dressed in uniform strolling down the street. One of the King's Guard, unless she was mistaken. He would know what to do. She marched towards the soldier, boy in tow, and pasted a polite smile on her face when he noticed her approaching.

"Excuse me, sir, but I was wonderfing what the King's Guard does with little children who can't keep their hands to themselves."

But if one DID look at it, a huge pitcher of juice wouldn’t exactly be durable. It would smash on impact with said wall, unless pitcher was made of some substance stronger than glass, but still durable…

…

What could possibly be more durable than glass? THICK glass? Yeah maybe, but the chances of the wall breaking were like…

Hadrian tried to count.

….

He had staff for this. He bit his lower lip, looking up to an imaginary thought bubble atop his head with a picture of a pitcher a ‘plus’ sign and a wall. The only empty space was after the ‘equals’ sign, of which Hadrian was trying very, very much to think about…

…

Still nothing.

…. now that was a pickle, he wasn’t really an alchemist or anything, he didn’t play with fire or inhale a buttload of mercury or anything…

….

Granted he’d heard mercury kicked your arse so bad you went to one of the suns. Maybe he oughta try that, or maybe not, or maybe he’d just leave a pile of mercury in someone’s room and watch and wait….

….

No that’ll be evil.

"Excuse me, sir, but I was wondering what the King's Guard does with little children who can't keep their hands to themselves."

What, what? Hadrian blinked out of his reverie. He looked at the kid in silent contemplation. Well, he certainly looked the part, although Hadrian was pretty lax with children. I mean, look at ’em, they were always so full of energy…. And this one was currently struggling against the woman who gripped him, so maybe there WAS a theft, or at least attempted theft…

…

Hadrian bit his lower lip again.

…

“Well he’s a kid.” Hadrian began. “He’s well… hungry.” His stomach rumbled. Gawd. “…. Like the rest of us." He remarked with a dry tone. Must... get... sandwiches. Sandwiches were GOOD for the SOUL. "In any case, it’s attempted theft, he’ll be in the bunk for a while, maybe a day or two… what did he actually try to steal?”

Upon hearing the man’s words, Seyira began to have serious doubts about the wisdom of her actions. Specifically, marching up to the first man in uniform and asking for his advice on how to handle the little thief in her hands. She’d thought that he would know exactly what to do, and be confident telling her, but this man seemed to be anything but confident. He might be wearing the uniform of the King’s Guard, but his mannerisms suggested otherwise. Not only that, but he seemed to be extremely hungry, if those strange – and loud – growling sounds coming from the vicinity of his stomach were any indication.

When was the last time he’d eaten? Probably when the little bugger in her hands had last eaten. The two could have started a stomach growling war, what with each of their stomachs issuing loud threats to each other. Even she’d managed to eat something this morning, and she was practically broke. But she really was wandering off the topic at hand, not to mention that the man had just asked her question. For the sake of moving this conversation forward, it was best that she answer his question.

“He tried to steal my money, although I wager that if I had anything else of value on me – which I don’t – he would have tried to make off with that as well. Since it happens to be my only source of funds at this moment, I wasn’t exactly too thrilled about it.” Obviously…. Age was clearly addling the man’s brains, but she was tactful enough not to mention it. Many men were easily offended by such trivial statements, and she had a feeling that he was one of them.

“Now, do you have a suggestion for what to do with him? If you’re thinking about buying him a meal, it’s going to have to come out of your own pocket, because I don’t have enough to feed him and myself.”

“He tried to steal my money, although I wager that if I had anything else of value on me – which I don’t – he would have tried to make off with that as well. Since it happens to be my only source of funds at this moment, I wasn’t exactly too thrilled about it.”

Hadrian scratched at his collar, a sign he was thinking for the moment. Well, he could clearly see this as attempted theft, but he hadn’t seen this boy before… maybe they all grew thinner at one point in their short, SHORT rule-breaking LIVES?

Hadrian was not one to remember petty details, hell no. If one presented this boy in front of him, all he would remember was that the kid had a ‘very hungry’ look to him and that he was colored brown, like well… turd. And MAYBE if one was lucky he would remember that the boy smelled like those little canals with the floating organisms that he didn’t even BOTHER to mention…

His stomach growled. The kid’s stomach growled. All in all they were communicating in a friendly way. If Hadrian tried to imagine it, the conversation would be like:

“Hey, are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry”

“Wanna get a bite to eat?”

“Sure.”

“MOVE HUMAN SLAVE. I WANT MEATS. GIVE ME MEATS.”

…

Mmm cow.

“Now, do you have a suggestion for what to do with him? If you’re thinking about buying him a meal, it’s going to have to come out of your own pocket, because I don’t have enough to feed him and myself.”

Hadrian scratched at his collar again. Let’see…. Starving kid, starving High Commander, obviously pissed off inhabitant… If he took the kid and cut his hands off, would that be mean? This was attempted… okay, maybe just ONE hand?

…

His sense of justice demanded TWO.

…

His sense of justice was NOT hungry. Imagine all the paperwork that would make. He felt horrified at the thought. Five hours of paperwork meant five hours of being hungry, wanting to eat COW and in the company of a kid that looked like a dustball smelling of turd.

He was not happy.

….

His sense of justice would not let this slide.

….

It’s amputatin’ time.

Hadrian unsheathed his sword, the kingfisher on the blade there for all to see. It was simply screaming ‘IMTHEHIGHCOMMANDERFEARME’, or ‘I’m High Commander, people, license to remove precious limbs right here.’

“Hold out your hand.” Hadrian spoke up, looking the kid over.

Once the kid had complied after further wasting Hadrian’s time with sniveling, generally expelling bodily fluids and the entire ‘sniveling brat’ package, Hadrian raised the sword and got the amputating all over in less than five minutes.

Bye bye, right hand. >D

After a few minutes of dithering, the man in uniform finally seemed to come to a conclusion. Seyira perked up, happy that something was finally going to be done. She was actually rather piqued as to what he was going to do, which just showed how far she had sunk while being in Olencia. Wow, how depressing.

The man’s face had resolved, and he pulled out a shiny, very imperious-looking blade, something she didn’t expect an ordinary soldier to have. There was a bird – a kingfisher, actually – embossed on the sword, which could only suggest one thing. The man she was talking to, the one to whom she had brought all her problems to, was none other then the man who was in charge of the King’s Guard, the head honcho.

In other words, the Lord High Commander himself.

Before Seyira could speculate further on what this meant for her – she had the faint suspicion that a man of his importance wouldn’t want to be bothered by such petty problems as the one she had just dragged to him – he had lifted his sword into the air, whereupon it reflected sparkly rays of light onto the dusty streets, and brought it down. Right onto the kid’s right hand.

Seyira let out a muffled shriek, and dropped the boy’s other hand – his only hand now – narrowly missing the fountain of blood that began spraying from the boy’s severed arm. She was by no means a delicate flower or a wuss, but this was not something she saw on a daily basis. And the fact that the High Commander, if this man was indeed him, had just done it in cold blood……?

Well, suffice to say that her opinion of him had just dropped a few notches. Or to put it more correctly, it had just plummeted from up above down into and below the ground.

She looked from the boy to the High Commander, then back to the boy, and then back to the High Commander. Her shocked brain was just beginning to process what her eyes had just seen, and she seemed to be having trouble understanding what had just happened.

“You…..he…..hand…..gone…..”

Finally, her wits kicked in.

“What the hell did you just do? I realize the child needed to be punished somehow, but an amputation was most definitely not what I had in mind! And yes, I do know that you are the High Commander, thus the almighty enforcer of the rules here, but couldn’t you have just thrown him in jail for a few days? Granted, that wouldn’t exactly solve the problem, but it would be a lot cleaner than removing limbs! Do you do this on a regular basis?”

“You…..he…..hand…..gone…..”

Hadrian dashed the blood off his sword and took out a piece of cloth. While she was trying to gather her wits he moved over to the kid, who was crying and put the cloth over the stump. “Keep the pressure.” He said, frowning slightly.

“What the hell did you just do?” Omg whut? Hadrian blinked as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“I realize the child needed to be punished somehow, but an amputation was most definitely not what I had in mind!” Yes you did. D: I could see it in your eyes. DEATH TO THE WORLD and crap like that.

…

Okay, so he overreacted, sue him. He wiped a speck of blood off his face with the back of his hand.

“And yes, I do know that you are the High Commander, thus the almighty enforcer of the rules here, but couldn’t you have just thrown him in jail for a few days?” Hadrian wiped his sword and sheathed it by his side.

“Granted, that wouldn’t exactly solve the problem, but it would be a lot cleaner than removing limbs! Do you do this on a regular basis?” Hadrian thought of it for a minute.

“Olencia is currently in a state of calamity, ma’m.” He replied. “The city is still rebuilding. If I put him into jail, even for a few days, that’s a luxury for them. They’ll have a bed and food, because by the looks of that one he didn’t even have a spare change of clothes.

“I’ve given my permission to all my people that they can amputate if necessary.” He explained. “Although I will take note of your suggestion.”

((Ugh, sorry this took so long.))

Seyira couldn't believe what she was hearing. This man, who looked so dignified, was casually wiping blood off his sword, speaking coolly and efficiently about the task he had just completed as though it were one he did one a daily basis. Which he probably did, considering how he'd just told her that he'd given all of his soldiers permission to amputate. And what was up with that choice of words? Amputate? You amputated in a hospital, not out in the streets in broad daylight. Couldn't the man have used a term like 'removal of limbs'? First of all, it sounded so much better, even more professional, and second of all, it was exactly what was happening.

But no. The man had referred to it as amputation. Clearly, there was something wrong with him.

Seyira sighed. "No, no, no need to take note of what I said. It was merely a comment, not a suggestion. You know far more than I do concerning the city of Olencia and all sorts of military things, I'm sure." Though obviously nothing about the treatment of children, even if said child was a conniving little thief. Oh well. That wasn't something she was going to bring up, since it wasn't that though she had children of her own and had experience in the matter.

Ugh. Children. She knew that all children were not like the one before her – the one currently missing a hand – but it still unsettled her. Small beings incapable of coherent speech and advanced thought that followed you around wherever you went, completely dependent upon you until they reached their teenage years, whereupon they underwent a complete transformation and refused to speak with you. But that line of thought was completely unrelated to what was going on right this moment.

But something else the High Commander had said set off a thought....

"Speaking of hunger, do you know a good place where I could find lunch? It seems as though the only way for me to protect my money is to spend it." Unfortunately.

The woman sighed. "No, no, no need to take note of what I said. It was merely a comment, not a suggestion. You know far more than I do concerning the city of Olencia and all sorts of military things, I'm sure."

…

I only REALLY, REALLY wish you would make up your mind. That way I wouldn’t receive anymore complaints regarding wailing mothers, handless children and people who were not satisfied from their insurance.

…

He really WAS working too hard. This was torture for him, you know. They didn’t even have much food in the Fort. Apparently, they left out the pantry in their haste to burn everything and pillage… but they DID pillage the pantry. They just didn’t burn, so now Hadrian was patrolling without food.

…

And being bored. Even the HIGH COMMANDER was on a patrol, and that was not fun. NOT FUN WHEN YOU GO PAST THIS BURNT POTTY FIVE TIMES IN A ROW.

…

Dammit.

"Speaking of hunger, do you know a good place where I could find lunch? It seems as though the only way for me to protect my money is to spend it."

Hadrian thought of it, hand on chin, and then pointed to a direction he knew well. God, now he felt like some sort of enforcer. Not a LAW enforcer, oh no. He felt like those people he station out here in the heat of the suns to watch over proceedings…

“Pracing Pony is that way, ma’m.” Hadrian told her. “Easy to see, has a pony on the sign. Anything else I can help you with?”

Huh. The Prancing Pony.

Seyira remembered that name. Jaylyn had stopped there for their midday meal when they had first arrived in Olencia, only a few weeks back. Gods, had it really only been a few weeks? It felt like forever since she had daringly left and joined forces with a mysterious man that she knew virtually nothing about, except for the fact that he apparently served her mistress. And look where that had gotten her. Homeless, with naught but a few coins to her name, and stuck in a city she’d never set foot in before in her entire life.

Hah. Who knew she could have been this stupid? So much for being sensible and smart. Apparently she’d tossed her wits to the winds when she’d tossed away everything else.

But the Prancing Pony seemed fitting. It was where this had all started, maybe it would be where everything ended, as well. She wasn’t going to end her life, hardly. However, it was definitely time to do a little reconsidering on her part. Seyira was going to have to do something drastic if she wanted to stay alive for more than a few days.

“Thank you for your recommendation, sir. I’m sure I won’t miss it.” She fell silent for a few moments, pondering. “And I don’t believe there is anything else I need. Thank you for your help.”

Suddenly, she looked down, and remembered why she’d sought him out the in first place.

“Oh, but wait. What are we doing with the child?”

((very short, am sorry x_x))


“Thank you for your recommendation, sir. I’m sure I won’t miss it.” Hadrian was getting ready to turn on his heel, to leave and get back to the guard to do paperwork…

…

He HATED paperwork, but he had to do it because he was the Commander. Well, dad had it easy. He was a Major. Suffice to say, Hadrian knew the rulebook like he knew how to destroy all lawbreakers.

“And I don’t believe there is anything else I need. Thank you for your help… Oh, but wait. What are we doing with the child?”

Hadrian blinked. “The punishment has been given, ma’m. If the boy followed what I told him to do, he will not bleed to death. However, if he did not follow… well, we will have to burn the corpse. Prevent the spread of plague, so to speak.”