Feed Me Seymour!!

At the close of every hand, I typically review my ledgers, I am not overly fond with the paperwork associated with keeping my own books, for the result used to be a pounding headache, as my eyes darted between the sloppily scripted decimals and the worn book, the invaluable
learning tool used to help me properly read and write.
It is one of the few possessions I have kept, due in part because it belonged to my mother. She was a woman of incredible inner strength, something that I didn't quite realize or appreciate until she was no long part of my life. On my long list of regrets, it ranks at the top.

In order to compensate myself, it is during this time that I allow myself the rare indulgence of the partially filled glass of reserved Turian liqueur. It is an acquired taste, unbefitting most women. I however enjoy the potent taste, everything about it in fact, from the way it thick aroma hangs in the air long after it is uncorked to the way it slowly burns that back of my throat in the process pulling the tension from my entire body.


Over the course of the last couple of hands, I have noticed a steady, yet noteworthy decline in my current sales, leafing back thru the bound pages, the scripted numbers double checked upon a separate piece of placement. It is something that perhaps may might go unnoticed by those as I shall phrase, less inquisitive. Crumb was dispatched, confirming the rumors not to mention long lines that had become a common fixture outside of the newly opened cafe, 'The Muse'.
The neglected invitation sought out, one that illustrated the shared desire to talk business, at time I received it I found the newly refurbished establishment of no threat. The relationship between myself and Micah considered amicable, never straying to the personal, yet he seemed like a good man, reputable and cordial when it came to adhering to the payment schedule for the standing order of breads and pastries.
His unexpected demise still bothers me, I since learned that I am not alone.
The speculative rumors concerning what transpire, remain. I have done nothing to squelch the scandalous tales, it does not benefit me for it to succeed.

The stereotype legendary, the bakery has always served not only my monetary needs but also acting as a sweet tributary of events, both past and present, a fact that I use to my advantage, adequately quenching my thirst for knowledge and the power naturally associated, ingested like a deliciously addictive drug only be molded, transformed & tainted before being shared ensuring the best possible results.
It suits my needs to keep such speculative rumors alive, feeding the flames of controversy with sprinkled bits of fabrication before being passed on to addle minded only to spat out in the closest ear available.
I consider it a public service really, it had long since been proven that most people delighted in being fed such sorted personal details, often times preferring to believe the worst in others, and I am of course in the business of feeding the hungry.
I do not waste my time speculating upon the intended, in the end does it really matter if the carried tale were laced with actual information or twisted innuendos?
Not in the least. The end result is all that really matters to me.


The complied scroll, delivered by crumb, apologized for being remiss for not taking her up on her invitation to talk business when she had first opened. Naturally in order to rectify such a careless mistake the dinner plans would be set in motion.
I did not however plan to make the trip alone, another similar scroll composed to the Magistrate, inviting him to join me so that I might present him with the menu ideas for the upcoming production. A brilliant idea if I do say so myself, this was done to simply flush out a reaction as well as show the proprietor the influence I wielded based on the company I kept, first impressions are lasting impressions.

Graciously he accepted, showing up early to escort me, no real surprise there, I can be very charming.
In tow would one of his many slaves, well trained and naturally respectful, making her presence one that was easily ignored. I would be remiss in stating that I am not oblivious to what I feel are unembellished rumors concerning the man. I am not sure the hold he has upon some women, yet I do believe after crumbs recent returned after delivering the invitation, it does indeed exist. I purposely chose not to question her upon what transpired only because I don't wish to hear the details, I shall however think twice about sending her on a return visit.

I could easily eat up at least four pages attempting to describe the color mixtures that greeted us and still I am confident I would not do it justice when it came to accurately summing up to the pale pink painted walls. Suffice it to say that I continued to see bright orange and pink spots for several days after our meeting. I have no doubt that Micah repeatedly dies another hideous shameful death every time the front doors swing open.
The door behind us barely had time to swing closed before the actor, Phineahas, made his entrance with the dark skinned slave, one that I knew from previous meetings belonged to the Poet.
I should not have been surprised for the setting seemed perfectly suited for both entertainers and slaves alike.
I was reminded of my visit, with the approach of the sari clothed proprietor. Her mannerisms and outward demeanor familiar to me, it would during the course of our conversation that I recalled when I had seen her. It had been during a visit to my bakery, she made an impression not only with her flamboyant attire but the company she chose to keep. It also became abundantly clear that I was not the only one familiar with the woman, the fact did not escape me that it had been the Poet, liberally used her first name when addressing her. Naomi. The attached preceded of the term "Lady" seemed to me to be polite afterthought. One perhaps for my own benefit, yet I seriously doubt that my presence in any way changed the way to Poet conducted himself. I might may be wrong. Yet the nature of their conversation spoke of familiarity.

The judgements and voiced speculation remained silent, attempting to assess the extent of their relationship. Truth be told it didn't matter to me, I had already weighted and judged the women in my own way as I do with any and all competition. I never intended to see her as anything less than a threat, yet as I listened, my opinions slowly changed as she was made to verbally defend herself.
I would never admit this to her, but I was impressed by the way she stood her ground when openly questioned about Micah. I am I think like most in that respect, when it comes to such displays of strength.
I accepted when the offer to contact business was presented. I look forward to maintaining and cultivating our relationship if for no other reason than to seek out more information concerning the inner dwellings of her prosperous inheritance.

The colorful evening ended on what I consider a positive note.
I found the climate comfortable as the Poet escorted me home, bestowing upon me a word of caution when it came to dealing with the flamboyant woman.
I did not share with him that I maintained a sense of caution with most, especially where he is concerned.