Snippet #1326749

Loki's face retained its typical bored expression as the scientist was ushered in. Probably not too far up in Marchfield, if he were being sent here to do maintenance work (there was no other good reason for a scientist to be here, after all, and the majority of them pretended not to care how much power they had almost as well as she pretended not to care about anything else). He removed one of those peculiar eyepieces in what she assumed was an attempt at proper decorum, and her eyes narrowed slightly at the blue crystals embedded about his eye. Ah, so this is the one who had the Mana accident... Vernazza. However apolitical scientists believed themselves to be, the princess knew differently, and quite regularly kept tabs on the notable goings-on at Marchfield. The incident that had produced this particular disfigurement had been enough to warrant her attention for the time it took to hear it, at least.

Waving a hand carelessly, she adopted the persona most often used with those she did not wish to know the extent of her involvement in the city's governance, which was to say just about everyone. She'd long since mastered the appearance of a somewhat sharp, but occasionally careless, minor administrator. A bureaucrat, if one were fond of such terminology, menace only to the truly incompetent and of course the efficient. "Formality is for the moment unnecessary, Mr. Vernazza," she doubted he was at all surprised by people knowing his name. It was likely somewhat hard to miss a fellow who selectively glowed blue. "I take it you were placed in the general line again?" Without waiting for his answer, the princess selected a piece of parchment from her desk and began writing upon it in a precise, elegant hand even as she explained further.

"A policy has recently been instituted to counter this tendency. I've been issuing missives like this one to the scientists as I catch them." She chose not to mention that she was sick of dealing with the petulance of 'genius' or her poor overworked staff's ranting about arrogance. It wasn't hard to push this one through Parliament; since she'd actually had someone else draft it, even Gilgamesh hadn't resisted. Why would he? Scientists were generally from noble families; less restriction on their access to the palace was immediately recognized as a potential for the gathering of information, she was sure. As though she was stupid enough not to anticipate such a thing. As though her mother were stupid enough. It was only a palace policy anyway. Personally, Loki tended to think that such things shouldn't need Parliamentary approval, but then the Constitution did disagree with her on that fact, and as of right now, that document was the only opponent she bothered with respecting too much.

Signing the bottom with a flourish, Loki folded the parchment into neat thirds and placed it at the edge of her desk. "There. That piece of paper will allow you to get past the lines on scheduled maintenance days. It does, however, only allow you access to the relevant sections of the building, so do take care not to wander too far astray. If that is all, I will let you go about your business. The lift has been lurching a bit of late, usually just when beginning from a standstill." She did not smile, for such was not in her general demeanor, but the implied warning was as polite as you please, though she had been told once that her demeanor tended to leave people with a vague sense of unease. Let it.