Brown eyes scanned over black and white, over and over again, for several hours. Normally this would be the point where thoughts of complaint and self-pity come on, but then what would distinguish it? Cicera loved the tedium. She ran through paperwork like an addict through a pack, devouring every word, every signature, every stamp. She loved it for the same reason she had taken the job: it's safe. Nothing but papercuts could touch her behind the skyline standing on her desk.
Piles and piles of loose sheets built skyscrapers in front of her, connected by bridges made from binders, rivers of scrolls running underneath. Somewhere to her right was an inkwell and a brush, to her left a stamp and its ink pad. At any given time she couldn't tell you where it was, but somehow her hands always managed to find them with expert precision. She kept her eyes down on the paper, her hands reaching around her periodically for another bit of paperwork, a refreshment, or simply another dip into the pool of black ink.
Periodically Cicera would push wavy brown bangs back behind her ear; she had left her hat hung up by the door of the office. Her loose-fitting Hokage robes danced in the light breeze from the open windows, each of them containing a massive set of wind chimes that played her symphonies while she worked. The sounds soothed her, and she needed soothing.
Reaching below her, between her feet, she groped for her mug. Finally finding it she wrapped her fingers around the still-hot ceramic, bringing it to her lips so she can taste semi-spicy Chai. The warmth trickled through her, invigorating and pacifying her all at once.
"Now where is that man," she wondered aloud, casting her gaze up to her closed door for just a moment. She'd called for Ark, or at least for her assistant to call for him, so that she might discuss something very important with him.
Piles and piles of loose sheets built skyscrapers in front of her, connected by bridges made from binders, rivers of scrolls running underneath. Somewhere to her right was an inkwell and a brush, to her left a stamp and its ink pad. At any given time she couldn't tell you where it was, but somehow her hands always managed to find them with expert precision. She kept her eyes down on the paper, her hands reaching around her periodically for another bit of paperwork, a refreshment, or simply another dip into the pool of black ink.
Periodically Cicera would push wavy brown bangs back behind her ear; she had left her hat hung up by the door of the office. Her loose-fitting Hokage robes danced in the light breeze from the open windows, each of them containing a massive set of wind chimes that played her symphonies while she worked. The sounds soothed her, and she needed soothing.
Reaching below her, between her feet, she groped for her mug. Finally finding it she wrapped her fingers around the still-hot ceramic, bringing it to her lips so she can taste semi-spicy Chai. The warmth trickled through her, invigorating and pacifying her all at once.
"Now where is that man," she wondered aloud, casting her gaze up to her closed door for just a moment. She'd called for Ark, or at least for her assistant to call for him, so that she might discuss something very important with him.
Tue Oct 08, 2013 2:20 am by Guest
» Republic City: Thread of Fate
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» Naruto: Tales of the Shinobi [Relaunched AU Naruto RP]
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» Naruto Mirage
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» Deadly Crows: A Fairy Tail RP
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» Saigen Academy
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