<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/15/Richard_Lancaster_2.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Rick Lancaster (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=283758.msg13963370#msg13963370)<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>January 1st, 2018<br/><strong>Status:</strong>---<br/><strong>Notes/Triggers:</strong><br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Anyone/Open<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Rick ignored everything else going on about him as he started to put together the gist of the document he would need for the Count to sign. He couldn't go into too much detail because he would need a note pad & pen, plus he was dealing with American legal structures, not Australian. But by the time Josh got him back home, Rick had the main points figured out. As tempting as it may have been for Josh to return the favour in kind to get Rick to snap out of his thoughts, he took the safer option and tapped the shoulder instead.<br/><br/>"Huh? Fuck. Sorry, mate. Deep in thought."<br/><br/>"I know. A Quest."<br/><br/>"Damn straight there." Rick opened the door and literally jumped out of the car and dashed into the main part of the house.<br/><br/>"Keith! If you're on the machine, you'd better get off it right now. I need it."<br/><br/>"Nope. No one's using it, Boss."<br/><br/>"Even better." Rick slid into the room, walking fast for the chair located before the twin screen computer. He opened up a word processor on one screen, and a browser on the other. "Right, let's get this sorted." The next few hours were a blur of typing, swearing, researching, swearing, making corrections and edits, topped of by further swearing. But the end result was a lengthy document that spelled out what Rick needed in case anyone in authority started to get prissy over details like his not being kin to the deceased. He stored a copy of the file on a thumb drive, and then turned to the browser again. Rather than looking up large amounts of legal definitions, templates and other resources, he did a business search for the Count's Boggan lawyer. The details found, Rick jotted them down, then picked up the phone.<br/><br/>"Zibly and Associates, Cheryl speaking. How may I help you?"<br/><br/>"Hi, Cheryl. My name is Rick Lancaster, and I am on my way over to speak to Mister Zilby, about matters concerning a mutual associate, one Harald Beaumayn. I will be there in about twenty minues."<br/><br/>"I'm sorry, Mister Lancaster, but Mister Zilby -"<br/><br/>"Will be wanting to see me the moment that I am there. Just tell him, so he wont be too surprised when I show up." Rick hung up before Cheryl could say anything more. He wandered back to the garage, and rather than going for car, Rick wandered over to the motorcycle. Rick wasn't sure what make of bike it was, but he was certain it was a Harley of some sort. He was in the US after all, and weren't all the bikes Harleys?<br/><br/>"Josh, let Mike know I have borrowed his wheels for a quick trip into town. I'll behave with it too."<br/><br/>"Ok, Rick, will do."<br/><br/>The helmet was too large for Rick's head, but not too large that it would move about and block his vision. Rick stayed within all the road rules, and drove as if he was in a car, so no running between cars that were stationary, or other similar bike rider antics. What he did do, however, was enjoy the ride to the fullest, given the urban environment. The wind on his face, along with the gentle sunlight, made him feel relaxed. Rick was getting an idea of why Mike and Nancy loved riding bikes. There was a freedom to them that cars lacked, which was the plus side to the knowledge that there was not as much metal around him if there was an accident.<br/><br/>The trip was over too soon, and Rick found a place to park close to the offices of the lawyer. Rick fielded a lot of stares from the ordinary folk who had a little trouble figuring out how Rick's mode of dress matched his personality, and from there, their personal safety and well being. If he wasn't on the quest for her Grace, he would have taken a little time to have some fun with the sacred little sheep. Luckily for them, Rick knew his priorities.<br/><br/>The stairs were taken two at a time, until he reached the floor of the Zilby and Associates. Without a pause, he entered the reception, and walked up to the counter that shielded Cheryl from the outside world, as well as himself.<br/><br/>"Hello, luv. Rick Lancaster. I called up a little while ago to talk to Mister Zibly. Since I am now here, would you let me know where I can find him? It'll be a lot easier than walking through back there shouting out his name at the top of my lungs." Rick leaned over the counter as far as he could and smiled wider than most people could. "And I have a really loud voice too."<br/><br/>He stood pack up, and took a step back as well. "I'm in a hurry, luv, so get crackin'."