Claus Grant // D7 // cb fin

A pen is more entertaining than the axe.

Always the inquisitive mind, Claus hasn't set down his pen in hours. The room's lit by candlelight as he works. Paper in front of him as the notes are jumbled up into the acclimations of stories. Pieces put together for the sake of the truth to be told outwardly to the people who needed it. Claus Grant had become a master with words. Manipulation, communication, and argumentation put through the ringer as his pen scribbles away. No sign of his father or the others who work in the woods, chopping away at the lumbers of Seven. A shrug of his shoulders as he knows tomorrow will be a busy one.

Bustling around with a notepad in his front pocket and a pencil behind his ear, Claus will question the people of Seven for answers. A solid detective doesn't get lost in the noise. People will turn him away over and over, but he'll find his breakthrough. Beat down upon people's weaknesses until they spill. Loosen folks up until the words drip from their mouths. Always a smile placed carefully upon his lips like a child who's gotten his way. There's too many secrets hiding in Seven. He wants to be the one to seek them out. A past so clearly filled with people who've lost. Claus knew of his uncle, but never knew him personally. Thirty odd years mean nothing now with a dead man who doesn't matter anymore. Instead, the newspaper is what he focuses on. Stepping into the building plastering paper together with presses of ink and other machinery until it's distributed to the people. That's where he thrives.

The Grants have already suffered enough.

A pen is mightier than the axe in Seven.