Topic: The Unlikely Messenger

Solange LeClerc

Date: 2008-06-23 14:30 EST
It was not uncommon for Solange LeClerc to be patronizing a dressmaker's shop, but this time she was heading into town to visit A Stitch in Time. Usually, the polished attach? preferred the luxury of private fittings in her home. However today she was on an errand that had little to do with fine fabrics.

As Solange entered the main building, the scent of fabric filled her powdered nose. Her chin softly lifted as she took in the fragrance and how it mixed delicately with her perfume. She did not have to wait for any employee to make themselves known, she readily saw a petit woman behind the counter. Still clad in her ivory tweed suit, though only the heavens knew why she would wear such a color into town, her stiletto outfitted stems gracefully walked the few steps toward the counter.

"Excuse me? My name is Solange LeClerc and I would like to leave this for Lirssa. Is she available? She and I have a bit of conversation to be had." She smiled in good measure as she was practiced at doing, one of her finely manicured hands was holding a perfectly folded piece of buttery parchment.

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-06-24 15:16 EST
Lirssa was fit to be tied. Huffing down the steps with an armload of finished products, she had taken very good care not to catch them on anything along the way. She had not taken care to make sure the same did not happen to her own clothes. The cotton trews, baggy around her slender legs, had caught the opening of a pocket on the edge of the railing. Oblivious to this, Lirssa and kept going and the seam had ripped open.

It was a cringing sort of sound, ducking Lirssa's had down and squinting backwords to make sure none of the shop wares had been damaged only to see a bit of her flesh peeking through the fabric. It ran up under the cover of her simple tunic where her undergarments showed. "Butter and beans," she groused with a wrinkled up nose.

When she arrived at the counter to deliver the collection of silky floral tops, she pointed to her leg and the wounded cotton seam, exclaiming, "I ripped my pants! I mean, it's not like I've not had a ripped pants before, just I got things to get to, ya know, and I'm not gonna be flashing my biddly-rumpus around doin' it."

The lady behind the counter with a bit of an embarrassed flush that escaped Lirssa entirely, motioned to the lady, Solange, with an indicating nod and began to hang up the new wares for presentation. Lirssa smiled up at the lady, "Yes'm? Somethin' I can help ya?" Eyes on her while her fingers went pulling at drawers and feeling around for safety pins to keep her pants together. A few pins in place, Lirssa hopped out from behind the counter with bright faced anticipation.

Solange LeClerc

Date: 2008-06-24 23:48 EST
The political puppeteer was more than mildly surprised when she saw that this "Lirssa" that Alain had put his faith into was little more than a child. She couldn't possibly be older than a teenager, Solange thought that she smelled a rat. A street rat. No matter, she told herself, after all it wasn't her money.

"Hello Lirssa. I am here as an agent of Alain Cavan DeMuer. All that I am about to tell you, you will find in this paperwork." Slender fingers slid the paper toward her. "Of course, if you have any questions at all, I shall do my best to clarify your concerns. Perhaps is there a place we may go to talk?" Solange was not used to trading information in the open, so often her job had entailed ironing out treaty details or urging political alignments over elaborate dinners or a F?te d'Op?ra. No matter, this message was important enough.

"I am here to tell you that Monsieur DeMuer has secured the property that you and he spoke about. You will find it located at 15 Plaza Blackhawk in the southern most neighborhood of the WestEnd. You'll also find the key inside of the envelope there," she gestured with a nod of her head toward the paper that Lirssa was now holding.

"In addition, I would like you to know that if you are in need of anything, such as financial aid, please contact Adrianna D'Aubigne Gaston at the Division. Do you understand? Of course, the house is not presently in a state that would immediately benefit a foster home, but as I am informed you told Monsieur DeMuer that you would be able to locate volunteers to prepare the house for its true purpose. I have done my best to make sure that there are no hazards present. There is working plumbing and such, and of course pests are at a minimum. Even in that end of the city." The corners of her eyes crinkled slightly as she smiled, her makeup gathering there to darken its effect.

"You will also find within that envelope the title and deed for the property, along with the appropriate zoning permits for you to begin your renovation. Might I also suggest a landscaping company for the front and back of the property. Children need well-constructed room to run, naturally." She picked an imaginary piece of lint from her skirt as she looked once more to Lirssa. "Again, if I may be of any further service to you my name is Solange LeClerc. You may find me at Basingstoke Villa on the Upper East Side." Her gray eyes took in the environs of the shop a last time before she inclined her head to Lirssa. "I bid you good day, Miss."

The leggy attach? turned on a dime, the seams on the backs of her stockings still perfectly straight. The tiny bell jingled out its delicate tune once more as she opened the door and stepped out into the sunshine of the mid-afternoon.

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-06-26 17:52 EST
Having spent most of her life in the company of adults, Lirssa knew when to get settled down to business, and this lady looked all business from her perfect hair to her prissy walk. She followed Ms LeClerc's words with a keen green gaze not missing a beat, a gesture, or a critical glance. The words were important as was the business she was about.

Long past self concsious discomfort about what she wore, life on the street had taught what was inside a person was much more important. It had also taught her not to poke at a pretty just to see if you can rile it up. Ms. LeClerc was definitely a pretty, and it was tempting to see what might jounce that perfection askew. Instead, being polite and respectful, she kept silence until given direct questions, and answered them as precisely as she could with the best grammar she could muster. Mrs Sheffield, her teacher, would have been rather amazed.

"Yes, Ms. LeClerc, thank you. I will be sure to do so." Since she had been told information was in the letter, she would not question now. No point in going over what might already be in paper. "I appreciate you coming to see me with this information personally." Eavesdropping on businessfolk had more than one purpose, and copying their manners was not beyond her ability.

She offered the lady a moderate curtsey, done with grace even without the genteel flounce of a skirt. When she had left, Lirssa turned about, paper held high in the air and the broad smile of triumph! "I've got it!" Without explaining what 'it' was, she ran to collect her satchel from behind the counter. "Mmm, I might not be around much for awhile. Got a big project to oversee!" There was pride in that statement.

Determined not to let the children down or Mr. Alain for his generosity, she dashed from the Stitch to start the planning straight away. First thing was to get a look at the building. She ran with her satchel bumping along behind her the entire way.