<div class="floatleft">(https://36.media.tumblr.com/788ca0ab87826443eb28acae5797dde3/tumblr_o1pz1sK49u1tyhl08o6_250.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Mildred Voigt<br/><strong>Occupation:</strong>Judge<br/><strong>Location | Time:</strong>Outside Granny's Restaurant | Morning<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Work Clothes (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/28/1a/fa/281afa3e19848a514b75f04372b99954.jpg) and Family Heirloom (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/9c/46/8c/9c468cb06f8ae4070e6312efe8f526f0.jpg)<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Corvin Diaval | Open<hr/><br/><em>Merciful Lord, please grant me the virtue of patience</em>, Mildred prayed to herself as she lifted her fingertips in order to massage tenderly against her already protesting temples. It was a futile effort but nevertheless she sought to prepare herself for a hopefully brief correspondence with the walking embodiment of a migraine.<br/><br/>In no way, shape, or form had she sought to beckon him, of all surrounding imbeciles and town idiots, to her side. She would much rather deal with Chas’ unfailing lecherous gaze or even Mister Gold’s dependable sense of superiority rather than endure a second longer than necessary in his company. At least, with them, she possessed a modicum of knowledge what they sought from her or what their unspoken intentions might be.<br/><br/>Unfortunately, the close nature of their work spat upon her desire to be rid of him each and every day without fail. Lips pursed into a faint frown, her gaze shifted from where he ambled across the street to where her true prey, a gluttonous midget, continued to waddle without falter towards Granny’s cheap but crowd-pleasing establishment. Silently, she willed him to choke on those fluffy, mouthwatering pancakes at first bite rather than enjoy a single second of pleasure.<br/><br/>Lips pursed with unhidden displeasure, Mildred turned her stormy blue hues back to the nuisance forcing himself into her personal space, for the umpteenth time. Corvin Diaval possessed a rare trait; his mere presence never failed to inspire agitation within the usually cool headed woman. Whereas most were met with infuriating indifference, she never failed to conjure some stinging word for him.<br/><br/><em>How can I help you today, Judge Voigt?</em>As always, his response to her lack of enthusiasm in regards to him was the same: polite, respectful, and ready to lend assistance if she was willing enough to accept it. Mildred rarely did, content to handle matters herself, which made today a rare exception.<br/><br/>“My<em>supposedly </em>top of the line refrigerator malfunctioned sometime in the middle of the evening,” she explained curtly, not bothering to indulge him with the niceties of proper social protocol. She did not care how day fared so far and neither did she ever intend to pretend otherwise. Before he could offer his unwanted aid with that aggravating matter, she lifted her hand to silence him before he could interrupt her explanation. “Never mind that. It will be fixed before the day’s end. Go to Granny’s and order breakfast to go. French toast, two slices turkey bacon, and one over medium egg will suffice. Orange juice as well. No ice.”