Books, Business and Bumbling

Accounting is the measurement and disclosure of an entity's financial information. In order for such disclosures to be of any use they must be relevant, accurate, consistent and timely. Should any one of these basic elements be significantly lacking in a set of financials they would cease to be useful and instead be nothing more than financial data.

For those who are unaware, the difference between information and data is that the former has been refined to the point where it can be used to assist in making a decision while the latter is generally nothing more than a collection of records until one begins to analyze it.

Accounting is required for many reasons but perhaps the most pertinent one is the fact that is required by law in most countries around the globe. This is not because those in governance enjoy subjecting others to constantly evolving bureaucratic regulations, though doubtlessly there will be those who would argue such point, rather such record keeping is necessary for any government to accurately extract the maximum taxation possible from its citizens and businesses with anything other than a flat tax.

Financial statements are also essential to the continual working of a capitalist economic model for they allow ordinary, intelligent individuals to gain a basic understanding of an entities fiscal position and thus decide whether or not they wish to invest a portion of their own wealth in such an enterprise, whether it be an person, company or other financial institution. In short accounting was the backbone of the modern business world and without it the global economy would degrade rapidly.

It is a classic example of the axiom 'Information is power.'

Zephyr knew all of this, indeed much of his early life had been spent learning not only how to properly utilize such financial information but also how it could be distilled from the base conglomeration of data. Admittedly there were times when his studies had become somewhat dull but the knowledge had ultimately proven itself worthwhile once the elemental had begun earning significant amounts of morally dubious income and was required to make pertinent investment decisions in order to keep such gains out of sight.

Yes the knowledge was undoubtedly valuable and, by all accounts, had save the mercenary a pretty penny by allowing him to avoid the middle men who typically provided laundering services yet, despite this Zephyr found himself silently as he once more attempted to discern the obscure scratching Ghost had made in the plain paper ledger before dropping it back onto the frosted glass desk before him.

Who, in this day and age, used hand written records anymore? The practice was archaic, barbaric even when one took into consideration the deplorable state of the sylph's handwriting. Still, the ingénue had come through with her promise and taught him how to assume an ethereal form and so Zephyr had lost his previous excuse for reneging on his end of the bargaining, a point the waif never hesitated to remind him of whenever she stopped by.

That particular train of thought caused the hessian to pause as he stared blankly at the laptop he'd brought with him. The first week after the initial ghosting lesson the sylph had somehow realized that the hessian held no intention of actually doing her taxes and so the girl had started dropping notes at some point during the day reminding the mercenary of his obligation; firstly under his door and then, a week later, in his shoes. These had, of course, been summarily ignored with the exception of a brief conversation over the phone to admonish the girl for intruding on his home while he had been away.

That had been a mistake.

The day immediately following the aforementioned conversation Zephyr had been woken up at the ungodly hour of 6:30am by the sound of someone rapping their fist against his front door. Having only gone to sleep three hours earlier the hessian's frame of mind had been anything but benevolent as he'd stalked wearily from his bedroom, answered the door and paused upon spotting Ghost. The sylph had taken one look at his tumultuous expression and bedraggled state, smiled brightly and shoved both a coffee and bagel into his hands before telling him she expected to see him at the store in an hour.

At least, that's what she'd tried to say, the door had slammed in her face half way through.

Events continued in a similar manner for almost two weeks with Ghost becoming increasingly bolder and inventive as she sought new ways to disturb his sleep. The one saving grace about the situation had been that the gamine refused to enter his bedroom, and so with time Zephyr eventually acclimatized to her interruptions and was able to sleep through whatever stunt she chose to pull on a given morning.

Then she'd stolen his keys, wallet, laptop and shoes.

It had been rather clear that the aforementioned items had been appropriated and not lost, mislaid or otherwise displaced by the mercenary's own actions because Ghost had left him a note with the same initial instructions along with a photo displaying all three objects piled on a chair and enfettered with tape in what was supposedly meant to be a comical parody of a hostage letter.

Zephyr had not been amused.

---

Sighing in an irritated manner Zephyr pulled his laptop closer and propped the ledger open to the proper page as he compared the written records he'd spent last few hours transcribing into a more practical digital form even as a small voice in his mind continued to grumble silently. This hadn't been tax work, it had been nothing nothing more than data entry, something Ghost should have had prepared long before she'd begun pestering him. Indeed the British elemental had been rather tempted to simply walk out and leave his counterpart a note of his own telling her to get her records in order before she bothered him again, yet now that he had finished there was really little point in such action.

Leaning back against the somewhat antediluvian office chair the taciturn mercenary withdrew a plain medicinal bottle from his jacket and swallowed a pair of alabaster pills with a practiced air before shutting his eyes and breathing deeply as he waited for the synthetic opiate to take effect.

A indeterminate number of minutes later the British elementals eyes opened and his azure gaze flickered around the sparsely decorated office searching for a form of distraction. He had already sifted through the contents of the desk drawers and found nothing of interest beyond a handful of photo's depicting people the mercenary mostly failed to recognize. There had been a checkbook in a locked draw and a hidden floor safe behind the desk whose mechanisms had provided an idle natured amusement for the dissolute hessian as he'd used his spatial sense to discern the combination of the latter and an appropriately adjusted paperclip to manipulate the tumblers of the former.

An additional moments consideration led Zephyr to the conclusion that it was time for a change of scenery and so, with little preamble, the hazel haired condottiere rose from his seat and exited the office into the shop proper. It was time to see what Full Circle had to offer by way of provisions.