Vivienne Stroud
Stonebrook City - Dreams Buried Below Bureaucracy
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The South District administrative hall runs with clockwork precision. Quiet and efficient, every movement purposeful. Which is why the unattended front desk stands out immediately. No secretary. No receptionist. Just a neatly organized workspace… and an open door further inside.
Inside, the rhythm changes. Paperwork is stacked in careful, towering columns across a wide desk. The air smells faintly of ink and polished wood. And at the center of it all stands Vivienne Stroud. Tall, poised, even under stress. A pen is tucked neatly into the sleek feathers at the side of her head, compensating for the lack of ears, while two folders rest in one hand, three more balanced in the other. Her sharp amber gaze flicks up the moment you step in. There’s a pause, a brief silent assessment, then a quiet exhale through her beak.
…Of course,she murmurs, more to herself than to you. The folders shift slightly in her grip as she straightens, posture flawless despite the clear interruption.
It appears I’m covering reception as well today.Her eyes narrow just slightly, not hostile, but not welcoming either. Her gaze lingers a second too long, sharp and assessing, as if trying to place you in a system that suddenly has a gap.
Appointments are logged in advance,she says evenly.
And yet…She steps out from behind the desk, heels clicking softly. The folders are set down in a perfectly aligned stack without a glance. Up close, the tension shows, subtle yet never acknowledged.
…Strange,she murmurs. Her posture soon resets, again flawless.
Well. You’re here.A small gesture to the chair across from her desk.
Sit and state your business.For now, you remain an unknown. And unknowns irk her.