Private Teern called out, aggravated "Sarge! Need ya to clear this cargo."
Alveo sniffs and turns around, rubbing at his eyes as he steps toward the private,"... how many times I gotta tell you that I don't have to check every damned box... What is it?"
Teern holds up a portrait looking at it himself, tearing off the rest of the protective paper. "Aye this one 'ere's been damaged. Shite box damn near rot through. Ya clear it fer me? Shift's almost done."
"... No. You clear it your damned self. Oughtta have you work doubles, lately... Oi, where was this shipment from again?"
Alveo steps a bit closer, folding his arms and leaning forward to peer sideways at the portrait. He exhales lightly, but sharply, then straightens, looking up at the liner,
"Ahhh..." Teern stammers and puts down the painting, craning over to look at the crate and then his ledger. "Shipped from Vesper Bay... Huh. Funny that... it stopped in a few places. Where is Apkallu Falls? That's not a place to ship from. Nope... nope. Damn can't find that nowhere."
Alveo rolls his eyes and snatches at the ledger, stepping back and leaning against other crates as he scans it, occasionally looking to the painting with a cocked eyebrow and clicking tongue. He gnaws on his lip, then looks up at the private with an incredulous expression,"... You're a fuckin' dolt."
He looks at the painting and tilts his head slightly, finally breaking into a mildly confused expression,"... recognize the person in that picture? Ain't like... a famous lady or somethin', is it? Not from Gridania?"
Teern curses under his breath; his arms free. He digs in the crate again pulling out one of the broken plates.
"Eh? Nah never see that bitch 'efore. Ain't one of those padjals. They all look like kids. But her, nay she's older. Look like Gridania though. All those trees in the background. Must be rich. Some rich folk. Take a look at this plate, kinda matches."
The plate itself was green and blue in design, a mix of some of the regular flora from the Limsa and Gridania area were someone familiar with leaves and plants. A seashell outline flavored the middle of the plate along with a silver edging. Other items from the set would look similiar: cups, plates, and bowls. A stamp shows the mark of a Gridanian crafter on the bottom of each piece.
Alveo glances sidewars at Teern before exhaling a short, quiet chuckle and stepping to the crate in question, peering into it for a moment before reaching for the broken plate and eyeing it over, mumbling,"... any actual contraband?"
Alveo kneels and looks back and forth between the plate and the portrait for a minute, lips pursed. After a minute, he sets the plate and ledger aside on the deck and brushes the painting with a gloved thumb, paying special attention to a seashell-charm in the artwork. He leans to his right and reaches into his boot, removing a similar charm of his own to compare the two, silently.
"Not that I can see. Bunch a ol' junk. Hoy what's that ye got there Sarge?"
Alveo slowly stands, frowning slightly as he holds the charm in his palm for a moment, muttering,"Just somethin' my lady gave me... Figure... a rich family'd keep their shit in one piece, better shippin'... Wrap 'em up, red rope. Stamp it for inquiry, we're takin' this one to the office. Don't think it's legally acquired. Anythin' else on this ship I'd question?"
The Private swore "Mother's arse... Aye Sarge. Nay nothing else outta th' ordinary. You headdin' there to check it out further or I gotta report to someone else with this shite?" grumbles already as he unceremoniously stuffs the portrait back in the crate and closes it back up.
"... You're takin' it to L-T, not me. After that, you're gonna swab this whole fuckin' pier before you go home. I swear, if I see another muddy bootprint, you're on doubles startin' tomorrow."
Teern starts to curse, but catches himself. "Aye Sergeant." He doesn't face the man, wrapping up the crate.
"Oh... take the manifest for the whole ship with you. Tell 'em we need the whole thing copied."
"Sarge come on it's a bunch of shite. Fuck!"
Alveo sniffs and strides off the pier, calling back over his shoulder,"'Nother bit of lip, you're on doubles, Teern!"
Alveo sniffs and turns around, rubbing at his eyes as he steps toward the private,"... how many times I gotta tell you that I don't have to check every damned box... What is it?"
Teern holds up a portrait looking at it himself, tearing off the rest of the protective paper. "Aye this one 'ere's been damaged. Shite box damn near rot through. Ya clear it fer me? Shift's almost done."
"... No. You clear it your damned self. Oughtta have you work doubles, lately... Oi, where was this shipment from again?"
Alveo steps a bit closer, folding his arms and leaning forward to peer sideways at the portrait. He exhales lightly, but sharply, then straightens, looking up at the liner,
"Ahhh..." Teern stammers and puts down the painting, craning over to look at the crate and then his ledger. "Shipped from Vesper Bay... Huh. Funny that... it stopped in a few places. Where is Apkallu Falls? That's not a place to ship from. Nope... nope. Damn can't find that nowhere."
Alveo rolls his eyes and snatches at the ledger, stepping back and leaning against other crates as he scans it, occasionally looking to the painting with a cocked eyebrow and clicking tongue. He gnaws on his lip, then looks up at the private with an incredulous expression,"... You're a fuckin' dolt."
He looks at the painting and tilts his head slightly, finally breaking into a mildly confused expression,"... recognize the person in that picture? Ain't like... a famous lady or somethin', is it? Not from Gridania?"
Teern curses under his breath; his arms free. He digs in the crate again pulling out one of the broken plates.
"Eh? Nah never see that bitch 'efore. Ain't one of those padjals. They all look like kids. But her, nay she's older. Look like Gridania though. All those trees in the background. Must be rich. Some rich folk. Take a look at this plate, kinda matches."
The plate itself was green and blue in design, a mix of some of the regular flora from the Limsa and Gridania area were someone familiar with leaves and plants. A seashell outline flavored the middle of the plate along with a silver edging. Other items from the set would look similiar: cups, plates, and bowls. A stamp shows the mark of a Gridanian crafter on the bottom of each piece.
Alveo glances sidewars at Teern before exhaling a short, quiet chuckle and stepping to the crate in question, peering into it for a moment before reaching for the broken plate and eyeing it over, mumbling,"... any actual contraband?"
Alveo kneels and looks back and forth between the plate and the portrait for a minute, lips pursed. After a minute, he sets the plate and ledger aside on the deck and brushes the painting with a gloved thumb, paying special attention to a seashell-charm in the artwork. He leans to his right and reaches into his boot, removing a similar charm of his own to compare the two, silently.
"Not that I can see. Bunch a ol' junk. Hoy what's that ye got there Sarge?"
Alveo slowly stands, frowning slightly as he holds the charm in his palm for a moment, muttering,"Just somethin' my lady gave me... Figure... a rich family'd keep their shit in one piece, better shippin'... Wrap 'em up, red rope. Stamp it for inquiry, we're takin' this one to the office. Don't think it's legally acquired. Anythin' else on this ship I'd question?"
The Private swore "Mother's arse... Aye Sarge. Nay nothing else outta th' ordinary. You headdin' there to check it out further or I gotta report to someone else with this shite?" grumbles already as he unceremoniously stuffs the portrait back in the crate and closes it back up.
"... You're takin' it to L-T, not me. After that, you're gonna swab this whole fuckin' pier before you go home. I swear, if I see another muddy bootprint, you're on doubles startin' tomorrow."
Teern starts to curse, but catches himself. "Aye Sergeant." He doesn't face the man, wrapping up the crate.
"Oh... take the manifest for the whole ship with you. Tell 'em we need the whole thing copied."
"Sarge come on it's a bunch of shite. Fuck!"
Alveo sniffs and strides off the pier, calling back over his shoulder,"'Nother bit of lip, you're on doubles, Teern!"
![[Image: hpThOka.png]](http://i.imgur.com/hpThOka.png)
