Fogeys Zann's Alley/Backyard A Changing of the Guard

[Talinn Ryalor]

The new Minister of Justice sat at his new, polished dark oak desk in the refurbished office of his position in Zann’s Backyard, the paperwork already stacked high across it. It was a very bare, functional office, as he had found Grayson’s lavishness distasteful and needed to set a new tone for the entire force. Glancing at the latest one, he broke open its strange, purple seal, and began to read. After a short while, a rare, if bitter, chuckle escaped his lips as stood up and cast it into the roaring fireplace in his office. In the small amount of time it was still legible before it was burned, the universe might have one last glimpse at its contents.

Dear Sessho,

It is with regret that I inform you that we cannot support the restoration of Kōtei seiji at this time, as all the candidates that you have provided are either, by your own admission, missing, or by your actions as tōshu swearing allegiance to that foreign “Jotei” as if you and I could pretend for a moment that a vixen could be suitable of holding any throne, let alone the Jade one, unsuitable. Furthermore, the fact that the Kōtaigō herself not only remarried, but irreparably soiled her honor and that of your entire household own by not only doing such, but by doing so to drunken lowly pirate scum dragged out of some Kitsune-forsaken hedge and rutting with him like some sow in heat to create multiple shoshi is completely unacceptable and a further stain on whatever threadbare respect that House Ryalor may have ever had. If you wish to even have a shred of hope of returning to the mainland, it would be best for you to find the true heirs, step down from your position and hand it over to one of them, and then personally execute the Inran Kōtaigō and her Yūkaku no Inu she pretends is her spouse. Then, maybe, we can talk..

-Daimyo of Yuki No Kaigan, Vyacheslavas Ivanovas

“Well now, Lord Ivanovas...I think I have an idea for a future mission for the BlackShip. After all, I am sure Tanya and Jeshal will be delighted to talk to you personally about your wonderful description of them once informed, and if that is not enough of an incentive, certainly be interested in the large amount of gold, silver, and jewels that your province produces. I think Anastasia, too, would very much like to speak with you on her ideas of whether or not a Jotei is suitable...” Talinn murmured darkly as he straightened the collar of his new uniform. Once he was satisfied, he turned and looked at himself in the mirror.

He was happy with it, being already familiar to him as Alexei had designed it all those years ago modeled in some part off the old Stoatorian Guard uniform and he was accustomed to both that and Imperial dress in general now after all these years. A long, straight gray dress uniform, with gold at the fringes, and black military boots. He himself had added to that a long greatcoat, in a similar fashion, with three pins on either side attached to it-three gold batons on the left, and three gold batons on the right, to signify his highest authority. He then glanced over to the window on his office, a small table having a rather unusual and rare bust on it. It was that, surprisingly, of Anithias Freedom, found in some back office at the Mayoral residence at his personal request, and deliberately angled toward Big Val, so that he was looking up at it. Talinn smiled bitterly and walked over to it, putting a paw on its head as he whispered bitterly.

“That’s right, you bastard. You sit there and look far up her from down here, for she was a better beast than you ever were. You will be doing so for as long as I maintain this position and do a finer job than you could even dream of. And furthermore, one way or the other, I will show your kits just how much of an unscrupulous coward you were."

Quietly, he walked back to his desk, and sat down on the plain, hard wooden chair without any frills. It was not comfortable-but it was not supposed to be, just like the Empress’s Throne in Amarone. It was a physical reminder to never think oneself totally secure in a position of power.

Briefly, there was a rap at his door, and one of his new aides, a young stoatess whose name had escaped him in all the chaos, opened it slightly.

“Sir, there is a Sergeant Samuel Vim...err, sorry sir, a Sergeant Samuel Grimes here to see you. As part of your new ‘open door’ policy. Should I send him in now or…?”

“By all means.” Talinn replied brusquely, leaning back for a moment before clearing some paperwork off to the side and sitting back down, this time more at attention. A Sergeant with the gumption to come up to the new Minister of Justice...now this should be interesting-far more than the reports, anyway.

@Jeshal the Ironclaw (For Grimes) and open to any potential interested Fogeys. @Callisto Bluemoon just tagged for how some of the more conservative factions in Fyador might view her personally and the Ryalors in general.

 

[Samuel Grimes]

To say Grimes didn't know how to feel about the new Minister of Justice was an understatement. Grayson had been incompetent and focused on the upper classes. He had failed to curb the uprisings of the supremacist movement, although how much of that was truly the ex-minister's fault remained to be seen. Grayson was a victim of politics and the truth would probably die with his career. Ryalor at least gave the impression of wanting change.

Unfortunately, that also came with a price. A label of traitor. The implementation of so many Fyadoran customs, most off which Grimes did not care for, but some of his peers did and he wasn't going to begrudge it. Too much. Grimes wanted to judge Ryalor for himself, not by rumour or hearsay, not by society. Although, sometimes, once in a blue moon, society got it right.

"That's Captain Grimes," he could be heard muttering out in the hall to the aide. "Captain." Apparently the signed papers had not found their way to the ministry yet. Slups precincts were, after all, more liable to have their communications relegated to the bottom of the pile. For all he knew, someone at the Poste had used his reports for gull nests... or the lavatory.

Precinct 13's newest squad captain walked into the minister's office and stood in a manner that was formal if not quite to attention.

"Thank you for your time, minister. Captain Grimes, recently transferred to Precinct 13. With permission, I wanted to ensure this was all made official."

His gaze caught the triple gold batons on Ryalor's coat and one of his fists tightened nigh imperceptibly at his side. Throughout his time as a Fogey, the triple gold had been reserved only for the Emperior. How highly did this fox see himself? As a thing to notice, it was not a great start.​

 

[Talinn Ryalor]

Talinn’s ears flicked ever so momentarily as he noted the discrepancy between how Grimes was introduced and how Grimes introduced himself, a subtle indication of the irritation that had been building up with him ever since his appointment in Amarone-among other dealings there. Once again, he was paying the price for the incompetence-and stupidity-of others, and now he could not simply brush it all under the rug as Minister of Justice as he had been able to do as Minister of Innovation. If something went wrong on Magh, it was relatively easy to make sure it stayed there. If something went wrong here at the Ministry, you got what happened at the Opera House.

I do not like the game that is being played here with me, I was supposed to stay in the shadows and work towards integrating Westisle and...other...things as per our agreement. Now I, and my family, feel like a piece on her chessboard, and I do not know whether I am but another pawn or something more important.

“It seems Stella was not informed of your promotion, Captain Grimes, allow me to apologize on her behalf.” His voice was just loud enough to be heard across the room and into the antechamber, where a flustered Stella accidentally knocked over a stack of papers as she realized that she had indirectly forced her boss, the Minister of Justice himself, to have to cover for her mistake in not doing a thorough enough background check on his visitor, to a subordinate no less, before the door closed.

“It is, Captain. Former Minister Grayson was a beast who liked to keep the nobility informed of his…” he tapped his right paw on the desk for a long moment “...progress in addressing their concerns. It seems that in his enthusiasm for doing so, a number of matters were allowed to drift, such as the formal recognition of your promotion. I have been correcting such...oversights...as they have come up in my first month as Minister. ” He gestured to the large stacks of paperwork piled up around him, seeming almost as if they were to swallow him whole.

He studied the Captain for a few moments, and, being a beast well-seasoned in command and administration, did indeed notice the slightly clenched fist. He thought for a few moments about what might have triggered such a response from when the stoat had entered the room-it seemed to have happened after he had a chance to look at him more closely, not before. He was sure that he had dressed himself properly-that was one of his points of pride-so there had to be...ah.

The triple gold batons, that must be it. Reserved for his or her Majesty alone, although until now, never worn. I can see why he has some consternation.

“Sit, Captain Grimes,” he said, gesturing to one of the comfortable, upholstered oak chairs stuffed with gull feathers across his desk for visitors-a sharp contrast with his own decidedly uncomfortable one. A way to put his subordinates-and opponents-at physical ease while he retained his own sharpness “we do have a fair amount to discuss, as it happens."

As the Captain eased himself into the chair, Talinn deliberately reached down to the sigil of his office affixed to his chest, and spoke, voice thoughtful, yet firm, as he touched it. “Similar to yours, it seems, if with one more bar and made of a more precious metal, but the duty remains the same. We act not on our own authority, but everything that we do while wearing these, the laws we enforce, flow from Her will and that alone. We are merely her paws-She is the one who directs us.”

He paused, hoping that he had reassured Grimes that while he was above him in rank, they both had the same master, and that he did not seek to rise above his station.

He continued, more matter of factly and quietly, “These triple batons...Her Majesty had many candidates with which to give these to, but picked me. She placed me here because she believes I can rise to the challenge of what is required. I intend to prove her right, and that is my only ambition.”

While wearing these, at any rate.

Placing his paws back over each other, he gave Grimes a rather respectful nod, something he suspected the stoat was not expecting. He knew his reputation, after all.

“I am aware that my manner does not always put beasts at ease, but, you may speak plainly with me, Captain, without fear of repercussion.”

He let those words hang, preferring to let the stoat bring up whatever it is that he wanted to first, before pressing him on others matters.

@Jeshal the Ironclaw