A much needed plan

[Sheriff Vasey]

A soft, low tapping sound could be heard from the Sheriff's room, drifting through the slightly ajar door to the ears of the two guards outside.

The tapping sound, came from the fingers of the Sheriff's right hand drumming on the large desk he sat at. The elbow of his left arm was on the desk, his hand propping up his head. His expression was no more bored than usual, his eyes staring straight ahead, though not really fixed on any object in particular.

With a heavy sigh, he removed his elbow from the desk and leaned back in his chair, his other hand still placed, but no longer tapping. Much to the silent relief of the guards flanking his doorway. As tolerant as they might be, constant tapping for maybe an hour would get on anybody's nerves.

[Scarlette Vasey]

As Scarlette walked down the long, dark corridors of Nottingham Castle, the slight echoes of her heels clicking against the cold, stone floor echoed around the walls, her pace becoming rather brisk as she headed straight towards her father's quarters, a rather determined stance about her.

However, to her annoyance, as Scarlette became closer and closer towards your quarters, she could hear the steady, repetitive drumming of your fingers against the wood of your desk. This really did seem to tick Scarlette off. It was one of her many irritations and she was determined to act upon it.

Approaching the two guards, she glanced over to them, raising an eyebrow towards them, the slightest of smirks dancing across her doll-like lips. Passing them, Scarlette pushed open the door to your quarter's with her foot and stepped in, giving no time for pleasantries or manners.

Immediatly she spoke, a heavy sigh leaving her lips as her hands folded neatly across her shoulders.

"Father could you please stop that noise!"

She exclaimed, a rather frustrated look crossing her complexion, awaiting your reply.

[Sir Guy of Gisborne.]

His hands clasped behind his back, Gisborne stood in the shadow of the doorway, as he had done for the past hour. There had barely been a single word spoken, although Gisborne was content with that situation. He had other things on his mind to deal with, and none of them the most pleasant. He would not speak about anything to anyone, preferring to remain withdrawn, and inside his own mind as much as possible. Nothing would draw him out again.

His long, lank hair fell into his eyes, although he dare not move to brush the locks back, for fear of irritating the Sheriff, his employer. The last time he had inadvertantly disrupted the thought process of Vasey's, there was hell to pay.

Of course, the tapping sound which had been continuing for at least an hour has got right on his last nerve, although he would not speak. He hoped there was a plan in motion.

However, the reveries of both men were startled, as Scarlette entered the door, flanked by the guards from outside. Gisborne snapped to standing straight once more, no longer hidden by the obscuring silence, although he remained silent, even as she spoke. He did not know if she even recognised his presence, he was so used to fading into the background.

[Edward Griffin]

Edward was standing just outside the Sheriff's door. There had been complete silence for hours, except from the continuous drumming coming from within. He took a quick glance at the man standing beside him. He was also standing as still as a statue, and staring straight ahead. It was strange about the guards that worked for the Sheriff. None of them seemed to have a personality. Even when they were off duty, they marched around, blank expressions on their faces. It was like everyone had been brainwashed. Edward narrowed his eyes. At least he knew better.

The Sheriff was thinking of a plan to overthrow Robin Hood and his group of nuturious outlaws. They were causing a lot of trouble. Edward however, shared the mans outrage. As a picture of Robin's face entered his mind, a bubbling anger filled Edward. He loathed the man. They had a history.

His line of thought was disturbed by Scarlette. He nodded respectfully in her direction, but as soon as she walked past, curled his lip into a grimace. He hated that girl. She was a spoilt pompous little brat. Trying to cast her out of his mind, Edward focused on a spot in the stone wall, and made himself concentrate on keeping still.