graver and quieter

"Who's 'we'?" He raised a brow and crossed his arms, "First time I'm hearing of this."

So it's his land they want then? He'd just have to see what Hades has to say about that.

"You should come down to the offices sometime, we love hearing from citizens," Ed's not the type to back down completely, though. Just thread the clever needle of snark while not pissing off the older man too much, "Not all business can be conducted on boats."

"Well, I'm not that great of a speaker. Maybe I should hire you to do all my speeches for me."

He chuckles and pats Edmund's arm.

"And I've never tried fencing. Never seemed like the type of thing I'd enjoy. I'm much more hands-on. Soccer's pretty good though. Can't remember if I was any good at that."

"Fencing's quite an art, it's a little difficult to get invested in as an adult. But its never too late," He mimics the pat Adam did to him, though quickly backs off when he realizes Adam's bicep is hard as a rock, "We could work together, if you'd like. I like to think I can make anyone sound nice." Or at least fold a lot of sass into their words.

Adam blinks, still holding out the cash. "It's not charity. My mistake and this is how I can make up for it."

He does stop brushing of sand when he sees Edmund's expression. Clearly he's not helping in that way.

"Remind me exactly what you do? I see so many people with ridiculous job titles that even the normal ones go over my head."

Adam reaches back to stretch his leg. He's not eager to leave the conversation but he doesn't want to cool down yet.

"It's one of my summer circuits. I do like the ocean view. Are you a runner? Or more of a gym guy? You look like you do some exercise."

He fights the urge to reach out and feel Edmund's arms. As comfortable Adam is with casual touches, Edmund strikes him as a guy that doesn't care for it.

"Fencing, I did fencing. And running too, I suppose, but mostly for football. Well, you'd call it soccer-" When there's too many questions all at once, Edmund feels like he's being grilled, "Technically speaking, I'm a consultant. But really that's just a posh word for doing whatever work organizing or training the bosses don't want to. Lots of arguing, lots of presenting. Normally I'm a very good speaker."

"I've provided jobs, transportation, business, tourism-everything to this town for years," Hook's anger simmers under his skin. He stand imposingly over Edmund, brows furrowing.

"You sit in a comfortable office and speak of replacing me, but Nauticus is not as changeable as a handful of numbers in your budget. It's mine. If your people have concerns, perhaps they should remember how much of this city stands because I put it there."

Run and tell his little boss that.

"I'll be sure to make a note of that in our minutes," Edmund responds dryly, obviously not doing that and putting his pen away, "Speaking of transportation, we've been thinking about allocating some land here for a bus line. Of course we wouldn't want to encroach too much on your property, but I think a compromise could be made to expand the roads here a little, seeing how it would help tourists get down to the fishing areas and bait shops."

Adam offers a hand to the Pevensie guy, helping him to his feet. Even standing, Adam basically towers over him. No wonder he'd ended up on his ass.

"My mistake," Adam says, trying to brush sand off the decently expensive looking suit. "I've got some cash, I can pay for dry cleaning. Wouldn't want to ruin your clothes just because I was distracted."

He unzips his pocket to pull out his wallet and grab a couple of hundreds to offer.

"How are you doing? I've heard your name even when you haven't been in meetings with me. Seems you're a busy guy."

"I don't need your charity," The younger man spits out with fervor, pulling away to straighten himself up without help. Having a tall, buff, shirtless man brush sand all over him was not comforting at the moment. In fact, it made his blood pressure spike, "Uh- Yes, well, I like to always have a few things lined up. I work mostly freelance at the moment, trying to build up a business."

He feels more flustered than he'd like to admit, and he chooses to blame it on the embarrassment at snapping at Adam.

"You... always run this circuit?"

With summer here, Adam's running paths shift as do his habits. Like how his runs take him along the beach. Or how it's hot enough that he doesn't even bother wearing shirts to run.

He also stops more, wanting to take in the scenery like the bright green of the trees or the bright sky reflected in the ocean, glinting with the warm sun.

And the scenery gets very distracting which is how he ends up crashing into someone when he'd just started to run after another break.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," he says, scrambling to keep the poor victim from crashing to the pavement.

Upon a second look, Ed realizes exactly who ran into him - whoops. Father always said he'd piss off the wrong person one day, "Er, well, you're alright, it was just a mistake." Shit, he did like Adam the last few times they'd run into each other at meetings. He didn't seem like the kind of man who liked being sassed.

Like hell some pencil-pusher who didn't even know his city was going to try to take business away. James had no patience for someone trying to to screw him over.

"There'd be no reason to 'diversify' our supply chain if I could be left alone to run my own business. I've built Nauticus from the ground up, and you don't even know what Godscobh was like 5 years ago, let along 20 or 30."

@justedmnd

"Well, you lost that privilege when you lost the trust of the people," If Edmund knew a little more of the history of the town, he might have the sense to hold his biting tongue in front of a dangerous man, but the words were already out, "If there have been large changes within the past two decades, I see no reason why we couldn't push for more in the coming decades. It's not personal."

“Your concern about the state of our harbor is as astute as it is well placed. Your brother, Sheriff Pevensie, is doing no less than his due diligence in keeping Nauticus closed, as expected of a man in his position, but it does pose a logistical issue when our economy is so heavily reliant upon maritime trade. I have already received similar reports that we are experiencing shortages of goods and resources — Nothing critical, of course. Not yet, at least. Naturally, I happen to have a long-term solution in mind that will prevent this issue from ever arising and threatening our way of life again, but I find myself pondering what the political impact of doing so will be to our community. That, Mr. Pevensie, is where you come in.”

There is a brief pause then, to allow his words to fully sink in, before he continues:

“My grandfather built Godscobh at a very different time than we live in now. We may be a coastal town, but there is no longer a reason why we should rely solely upon our ports to supply the growing demands of our population when that is no longer our only means of connection to the world at large. How do you think our people would feel about a robust investment in our land-based transport system, connecting our local infrastructure to major highways and existing regional logistic corridors so as to diversify our supply chain?”

@justedmnd

Well, it's at least relief to know that Zander has ideas to help the town, and it's even more of a relief to get a new project to invest himself in. As Ed listens, it occurs to him this is an awful lot of responsibility. One that he'll take great pride in spearheading, if he can strategize correctly.

"Public interest in trains has gained a lot of traction over recent years, there's no reason we couldn't easily adopt the same policies here," The nearest tracks could be well outside the city's physical limits, but establishing new truck driving jobs for the in-between bits of land could also benefit the town's economy, "And public transportation is almost always a hit. That's quite a bit more of an investment, but less reliance on cars means less reliance on petrol if there was a shortage."

That doesn't exactly help with the import and sales of the actual high-demand product in town, which seems to appear out of thin air wherever it needs to be. Peter wasn't finding any of Nauticus as far as he was aware, but that didn't mean it wouldn't show up across town in a week.

"I'd be happy to take the lead on contacting some of our sister cities who have begun similar efforts, I'm sure they'd have helpful research or evidence based results for us to examine."

Someone who does not need to be handled with kid gloves anymore.

So, when he goes on to jest about who the raid may or may not have upset, Peter decides that perhaps his brother can be trusted enough to hear a little more about what is currently on his mind than he had been initially inclined to share.

“Something to that effect, yes” he begins, a rueful smile on his lips. “That night, my officers and I disrupted the profits and operation of multiple local criminal organisations. It had been our intent to pursue them one at a time, not all at once. It became more than we had bargained for. We have had no further incident since then, nor do I believe we will, but tensions are still high, and there may yet be trouble ahead. Being Sheriff, I would be easily excused if I chose not to return to the scene to secure the perimeter personally — but how could I ask anyone to do that which I myself am unwilling to do? No. As their leader, I have a duty to my men: To be the first on the scene and the last to leave, always. No matter the risk.”

@justedmnd

"Sounds scary," Edmund hums into his coffee, making a likewise valiant attempt to mask his discomfort. He always gets a little prickly and defensive around his siblings, even when he doesn't mean to be, "And here I though being Sheriff came with the privilege of delegating."

Peter would just go ahead and make himself a martyr, wouldn't he? Always throwing himself on the proverbial sword no one asked him to go anywhere near. He'd been doing it for years at this point. Ed should really be used to it by now.

Beneath his biting exterior though, there is a sensitivity Edmund doesn't often let leak out. It is scary. It's scary to let his brother go into combat with a bunch of people he doesn't know - the police in this town weren't exactly ship-shape before Peter came along. It's scary to think New Year's could've been the last time he saw his brother. That fear manifests itself in the irritation, both more emotionally perceptive than Peter gives him credit for and yet shielded with an air of annoyance.

"Sometimes seems like we should just let this place figure out it's own problems."

Adam chuckles and blinks slowly. His vision is coming back and even sitting up, he feels his balance settling again.

"What were you even doing for him? Polishing his shoes after every step?"

He finally actually looks up at the man helping him. He looks vaguely familiar, not in a "saw a stranger across the street once and just remembered his face" way. More like a "he looks like someone I know" way. Or it could be they'd met in Adam's "Roaring Twenties" but he doesn't look quite old enough for that to be the case.

It would show better character if he also didn't come off like a total hot head compared to his boss. Former boss.

"It's a little thankless, but I like to think I'm the brains behind many operations," Edmund shook off his grumpiness, Adam didn't deserve it, "Edmund Pevensie. I'm a little new to the area, I'm usually traveling."

Edmund, whom he had always had such a contentious and strained relationship with? Edmund, whom he cannot talk to? Whom he could never just simply talk to?

Without a word, he raises the cup of coffee that is offered to him to his lips and drinks. The bitterness of the drink is rivaled only by the bitterness of the picture painted by Edmund’s words of a heavy tension in the air, not only in between the two of them but that hangs over all the citizens of Godscobh — a dense fog of uncertainty and apprehension that had gripped their hearts and minds since the day of the raid. Peter’s raid.

It occurs to him, for a brief and fleeting moment, to ask if his brother believes that he had done the right thing. To be affirmed by someone who is close to him, someone who knows him, that his judgement had not been compromised. That to make the choice to act is better than to make no choice at all, even if in the moment, things may seem to be more chaotic and unstable than ever. That he had done well. For once in his life, Peter needs someone to tell him that he was doing well — but those words die before they ever reach his lips.

He would not ask that of him. Not of his baby brother, who has not yet seen just how difficult life can truly be. Yes, Peter can trust Edmund — or, at least, Peter wants to believe that he can trust Edmund — but he will not ask for his support when he is the one meant to support him.

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown, and he will not ask that his brother share the weight of that responsibility with him. That is a burden all his own.

“Well… Only just today, I received notice that the judge has granted me the search and seizure warrant I had requested in the aftermath of our operation, therefore the plan is that I return to the scene and provide on-site security and support to our CSI unit while my men search every last inch of that harbour.”

Conveniently, Peter elects not to mention why there may be a need for said security in the first place. There is no need to exacerbate whatever concerns his little brother has about him.

@justedmnd

"Thrilling," Edmund's response is equally measured, careful not to offend his brother with any of his actual opinions on this. He didn't exactly question Peter's choices or think they were wrong, but they obviously weren't kids playing soldiers any more. Peter's decisions affected everyone else in town, not just the criminals he'd like to prosecute. Ed was definitely looking forward to ports being opened again.

He has learned, however, that words thrown around carelessly tend to land badly between them. Bringing more attention to the stress they're all under would only make Peter put more pressure on himself, and Ed's not looking to see his brother explode under it all.

"So you have to be security because... someone thinks there'll be another fight?" Edmund puts two and two together - he's not as mindless as Peter has, at times, accused him of being. Peter's squad being needed for security means the danger is still very real and alive, not just conveniently sanctioned off to one night. And if someone's going to be shooting again, they're going to be shooting at Peter, "I suppose you cheesed off everyone you didn't arrest, eh?"

While he does indeed have a reputation for rewarding those who prove themselves somehow worthy of it with his patronage, he feels the need to assess them personally and determine that worth, or the lack thereof, for himself first — and that is how he had first met Edmund Pevensie.

The young man was that of a peculiar nature, far more subdued and solemn than his glowing, golden brother, but not without his own virtues to speak of. There was little resemblance to be found between the siblings, be that in manner or temperament, but it was these very differences that made them each so valuable to him.

In Edmund, he had found a boy with the ambition to rise far beyond his means, and the drive to see it through. A loyal assistant and a logical, fair advisor, whose proactivity and dutifulness had earned him a position at the mayor’s side — until he had decided, against the intern’s counsel, to forgo running for re-election, again.

Zander’s reasons for stepping down had been his own, but he had determined himself to watch the young man’s career whether or not he remained in politics for himself, and what he had seen in the years since had not disappointed him.

Recently, he had his office reach out to ask that Edmund gauge the current sentiment of the citizens in regards to the local government — and, as nothing more than a self-indulgent test, his personal assessment as a veteran campaign manager on if Zander should return to his former position as mayor or not.

Waiting for him in his office at City Hall, he gestures for him to enter as soon as he hears him announce himself through the door.

“Mr. Pevensie, at last. Come in. We have much to discuss.”

@justedmnd

Zander was definitely one of his preferred superiors, though he'd graduated from internships under Zander to just consulting and advising a few years ago. Ed would've loved if Zander had stayed mayor, in fact, and not only because it would've given himself a substantial boost to his social and political acclaim. Surprisingly enough, Ed did just like the man beyond the formalities of work too, even if the council did sometimes fall in that aforementioned category of "big-headed". Who wasn't, in their line of work?

"About the ports closure?" Edmund made the assumption, since it was all anyone had been chattering about for weeks, "I've been wanting to discuss a timeline for that, it's affecting practically everything supplied at stores in the area."

For obvious reasons they couldn't just stop the investigation, but couldn't they... reopen a little bit? It didn't do the town any good to have fewer resources for every little thing.

"I just- I don't know, I feel bad. You were just trying to buy pens and now I'm telling you about my missing older sister. Thats uhm... not exactly a good impression that I'm making. Not that the bloody sweater was doing me any favors either, but- I'm sorry, I'm doing it again."

She's silent for a single beat before the nerves make her blurt things out all over again. Keeping silent was always better, but sometimes she couldn't help herself. She could be so calm in life or death situations. She could be so calm when helping someone through the worst of something horrible, but something like this scattered her brain like nothing else.

"It's not that she makes me tense, really. I tend to make myself tense. Over absolutely nothing, as I'm sure you can tell. And uhm, she was pretty tense too, all the time, from what I can remember of her when we interacted."

"I know what you mean," It doesn't exactly come naturally to Edmund to extend empathy, but it's a skill he's working on, "Has anyone ever pointed out to you - you talk more easily about stopping a patient from stabbing himself than you do about your sister? That must just come with the job?" It was the kind of intriguing that made Ed want to ask for more, so he got exactly what he wanted, "I hope that's not impolite to point out. I also get... tense when talking about my family."

She grabs the water and sips at it when he pushes it towards her, without complaint or protest. Though she does roll her eyes slightly, the attitude seems to have become mostly self-contained by now. She hasn't had a good opportunity to observe this one up close yet, so why not now? She might as well. "I never said I didn't like you."

The question about her name isn't much of a surprise, as it is a curiosity. She tilts her head slightly at it for a moment while she considers whether or not to answer it in good faith. Her hand reaches out to snatch some greasy food from the plate. It's an event trying to eat without making a mess all over herself, but she manages, and washes it down with water. She hates to admit that it makes her feel marginally better, but it does. So when she presses the cool side of the water glass to her flushed face, she decides to actually give him an answer.

"Of course," He picks at the plate with a fork, even though you don't need utensils to eat a burger. He doesn't recall meeting a Fowl family or anyone else with that name that Peter introduced him to, but obviously she knew who he was. It makes his walls thicken up inside, instinctively aware that she'd be comparing every little word or action from him to his brother. Well, at least she didn't think charitably towards Peter, maybe that was a start to freeing himself from the golden boy's lingering shadow.

"Edmund, but most people call me Ed," He starts to eat too, but with better manners. Granted, he's not fighting against the whole room turning sideways, "Are you a ballerina then?"

Right, she had a question to answer.

"But, no she doesn't live in town. She used to, but not anymore. I don't know where she is, actually. I'm pretty sure she got married, but I couldn't say with any certainty. She just left one day, didn't tell anybody where she was going, and I've never seen her since. Lea Florence Majorelle."

This felt more awkward and uncomfortable than talking about a patient stabbing themself with a pen. How does she always manage to do this?

"Sorry, I rambled again. I really don't mean to." She laughs, trying to ease any tension away, "The sweater. I'll definitely need a dry cleaner for the sweater."

Given the mention of his brother, Ed has to assume that Sophia already knows about the rest of his siblings too. He couldn't imagine missing one of their weddings or not even knowing where they were... Sophia had this almost tragic ability to speak of things like a patient self-harming or a missing sister as though they were as common as the milk in her coffee that morning.

"Why are you apologizing? I asked about her and you told me about her. It's just a shame she makes you so tense."

The guy steps closer into the neon light and Tim can make out more details. The coat is way nicer than anything Tim has owned. The way he carries himself isn't someone looking for a fight but someone privileged in an uncomfortable environment.

Tim grunts and leans his head back against the wall.

"Nope. Just catching my breath. I think someone's already in there so you'll have to wait your turn. Especially if you don't want to be seen."

Okay, maybe he wants to scare the guy a little, but in Tim's defense... he's tired and doesn't give a shit. He focuses on his breaths clouding up in the cold air as he pants. He can feel his jeans getting soaked but he can't be bothered to care.

"You make it sound so foreboding," Considering he looked like he had just been drowned, Edmund figured it was just a scare tactic. There were lots of scary things about Godscobh, and a positively soaking young man in worn out Sketchers wasn't one of them, "Are you alright? You look as if you could've crawled straight from the ocean."