#ocapril2019

Trinarius Trillium Age unknown, looks between late 30s and late 50s depending on lighting and intensity of his earnest squint

Collecting isn’t for the faint of heart. Trinarius knew many of his compatriots that gave up early on, others that were ground down by their time, by the difficulty of the self-appointed task they’d set themselves.

Trillium kept his spirits up by keeping himself impeccably groomed and exceedingly prepared, briefcase packed with every possible piece of literature that could be requested, every possible budget item that might be questioned, every kind of pen and document short of retinal scans to seal the deal.

He even had the perfect line for when they opened the door.

“Excuse me, sir/ma’am, would you like to make a permanent difference in the world?” (How could anyone say no to that?) “I’m collecting for the Sisters of Perpetual Mercy . . . “

He was a very successful collector.

Until suddenly, through no fault of his own, he was out of a job . . .

[I wanted to play with the idea of “collector” as being not “a person who collects items of personal interest to themselves” but “a person who collects money/resources on another’s behalf”.]

Narya Linuu, age 68.

Long, stringy grey hair; wide forehead with prominent single wrinkle, bulbous nose, collapsed mouth and chin so sharp it could pierce like a knitting needle.

The only thing sharper than her tongue is her hearing.

Mostly Narya can get around on her own, albeit with a limp. That hip replacement didn’t go so well, and physical therapy meant more pain for the therapist than for Narya, so she never regained full range of motion. But when one rides in a wheelchair, one can hide things under a blanket on one’s lap…

She doesn’t want to be likable. She doesn’t even want to be comfortable. She mostly doesn’t want to be dismissed.

And she’s coming for the corrupt politician planning to run amok as mayor of her growing town, if he can get away with it.

He’ll never know what hit him.