The Tribunal

The Meddling Begins

    Memori arranged the red and gold upholstered lobby chairs, ensuring that each had a clear view of the mahogany desk that stretched across one end of the lobby. He had a new – abnormally large – set of Patrons arriving and he was certain that Sors would be useless in helping him prepare[KT1]  their work station within the thirtieth Tribunal.

     The elevator door directly across from the desk glowed softly before opening with a ding. He straightened his already immaculate suit as the doors slid open and a slight, feminine figure stepped inside.

     “Tempus,” he greeted with a bow of his head, “I hope you are well.”

     She flashed him a radiant smile tucking her bright pink hair behind her ear, “As always, I hope I find you the same Memori?”

     Memori nodded once, the left side of his mouth lifting a fraction, “Of course.”

     Tempus’ eyes – just as bright a fuchsia as her hair – narrowed and her pupils slit like a cat’s, but only for a moment. “Thank you for working on your day off, I promise that after this group I’ll have the Fatifores team work the next double. The group coming in today contains five Patrons,” she informed him sitting primly on one of the chairs.

     Memori’s eyes widened a fraction, his navy blue irises shining the same unnatural shade as his shaggy hair, “I read that in Neo’s report this morning, their numbers are increasing.” Typically Patrons numbered no more than three at a time.

     Tempus’ vivid hair swung forward around her jawline as she nodded, “Their numbers have been on the rise for several decades now. The newest Tribunal is nearly finished, but it’ll be a little longer before it is up and running, so the big boss has our Tribunal pulling doubles from the bottom floors up.”

     “That sounds fair,” Memori agreed evenly.

     “Where’s Sors? Shouldn’t she be helping you prepare?”

     Memori shrugged and pulled a rag from his back pocket to begin dusting the end tables, “I’m not sure, I have not seen her since the last Patron of our last group left.”

     “I see,” an icy edge seeped into her voice. “I swear she’s the laziest Magistrate we have, I’ll have to have a talk with her.”

     “I’m sure she’ll be down in time,” his tone was even as it always was now-a-days, devoid of any annoyance. A far cry from the impassioned voice he used when Tempus appointed him to his position of Vitari eighty seven years ago.

     She snorted delicately, “I suppose we’ll see about that, you keep Animavero looks spotless whether she helps or not anyway.” Her eyes flitted over the lobby and up to the wall mural above Memori’s desk, “Perhaps it’s time you paint a new one?” she suggested, “That one has such a dreary air about it.”

     Memori followed the line of her gaze. Three androgynous figures, white cloaked and hooded, all tied and tangled together with golden thread against a backdrop of swirling colors. He’d painted it as he came to accept his existence in the Tribunal. “I find it fitting,” he answered, resuming wiping down the end tables.

     “Ah, I suppose it has something to do with those emotions you had so long ago.” Tempus took a moment to study the blue of him; the color that marked him for what he was within their little world, a Vitari of her own making. She stood then and started for the elevator doors, “I should get going, your Patrons should be arriving any minute. Let me know if you need anything,” she said with a hand raised in a wave over her shoulder, her back still facing him.