<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/15/Richard_Lancaster_2.jpg)</div><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>At the law office of Mr. Zilby.<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Mr Zilby (NPC)<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Inside, Rick was delighted at the way the receptionist looked rattled by Rick and his general approach. The deep primal part of him always took delight in making the prey cringe in his presence, knowing that he could, if the mood ever struck, devour her in a moment, and still have room for a lovely cake or two for afters.<br/><br/>"He's....he's back in his office. Expecting you."<br/><br/>Rick nodded politely as he straightened himself up and gave his clothing a quick tug to get it sitting better on his frame. She reached for what he hoped was some intercom or similar messaging system.<br/><br/>"Rick Lancaster to see you, Mr. Zilby."<br/><br/><em>"Send him back."</em><br/><br/><em>'Five'll get me ten that Zilby's a grump.'</em><br/><br/>Rick didn't waste any time in heading down to what could only be the door to Zibly's office. When he opened it, he was bang on the money. The man's appearance screamed Lawyer, or accountant; short, chubby and surprisingly dark skinned. If he were taller and more lithe, he would have been an Eshu, but the handy crafts on the desk spoke loudly of his kith. Rick took a few moments to give those pieces the respect they were due. The man had a gift with his hands, and the imagination to supply them with ideas worthy of those manual abilities.<br/><br/>Once that respect was given, his attention, and even greater respect, were turned to the offerings before him. The alcohol touched his nostrils just right, and the aroma of the croissants made his mouth water just enough. The grin started to emerge, but remained politely discrete.<br/><br/><em>"Sit, Mr. Lancaster. Let's talk and get to business. Have a drink and something to eat, if you like--try not to eat the glass and the plate, too, please--I made those myself."</em><br/><br/>"Thank you, Mister Zibly. Please, call me Rick." On mention of not eating the dining ware, Rick put on a melodramatic pout. "Awww, but they might be as tasty as they look and smell." The gave a sadistic laugh. "I may be a 'Cap, but I'll be fucked if I would eat something a beautiful as those. Unless you manage to piss me off enough, then I would just to get back at you."<br/><br/>Rick leaned forward and dropped the sheath of papers before Zibly, then sat back in the chair.<br/><br/>"There is an agreement between the Count and I to permit me to receive information concerning the death of his sister from the authorities as if I was next of kin, like himself. It also states that the Count has no legal liabilities related to my conduct, and cannot be held responsible for them. No one hold the leash on this 'Cap. I haven't slipped in any surprises like being named his heir, or any crap like that. I'm not completely knowledgeable of American legal intricacies, but I have a lot of experience and knowledge of Australian Law, so using that, and a ton of legal references I was able to put together what I think is close to being what is needed for American law. So, if you find any mistakes with it, please make not of them so I can not fuck it up the same way again later.<br/><br/>"One last question. Is this something that you can do quickly, or will it take a day, two or what? I'd rather not sit here any longer than I need to. Her Grace handed this quest to me, and some others, so I want to be doing as much as I can rather than twiddling my thumbs when I don't need to."<br/><br/>Rick picked up the plate, with the croissants on them, and move the plate itself closer to his nose, and took a deep sniff. The wood, and whatever had been used to decorate it, smelled delicious. He took a closer look at the work, amazed at the detail of the carving, as well as the accuracy of the application of the paint, or dye, having it stop precisely where the grooves formed. But then, the food finally won out, and he lifted one of the pastries and took a bite of one end. It melted in his mouth, filling it with a taste that had him moaning with pleasure.<br/><br/>"Ohhhh... before I go, you have to tell me where you got these from, because if it's a cafe of some sort, they're going to get some more patronage for sure. If it was someone private, I am going to be as jealous as fuck. Either way, I promise I wont eat the plate. The tastes aren't complimentary enough."