Aisling Wilde (showmeonce) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-07-26 19:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, !playerplot: a building of rooks, aisling wilde, azalea cerelia |
I said I tried to call the nurse again, but she's being a little bitch, I think I'll get out of here
Who: Aisling and Azalea
What: Visiting the invalid
Where: A clinic in the Commoner's District~
When: July 17th
Rating: PG
Status: Complete!
Aisling Wilde was bored out of her mind. How long were they planning on keeping her here? It had already been a few days, and the worst of her injuries had already been healed. She was ready to leave. If she had to spend one more night sleeping in this clinic bed, she was willing to bet that she’d be being picked up by the EKP for murder herself. That would make Cian happy, she was sure.
Cian... That was someone that she didn’t really want to think about. Her mind was still reeling from his visit. Not that she hadn’t expected him to show up at some point, but she really had been waiting on a lecture. Not the uncharacteristic quiet tone, or the way he’d gently squeezed her hand. If something like that is enough to make me swoon, she thought, I really haven’t learned my fucking lesson with him.
There had to be something else she could do, anything. The Ring match was a mere day away, and she was laying in bed when she should have been arranging match ups and getting things ready to transition smoothly into a more tournament-like system. There were numbers to run and reports to write and shit to take care of that was more important than lazing around and doing nothing.
She still had to give Cian the rundown on all of information she had gathered.
“When the hell can I leave?” The empty room didn’t answer her back.
Only moments after the uttered question, a nurse entered the room, Azalea following quickly behind her. “Hey, hon,” she greeted. She had a plastic bag in one hand, filled with better food than the clinics had to offer. “Brought you some chow.”
The machinist was more composed than most other people in her position might have been. The same debacle that damaged the mime so thoroughly had also put a dent on the Guild’s reputation, aboveboard and below. The public didn’t like knowing that a Guild-trained machinist had run amok; the underground didn’t like that someone had been so sloppy. Lea was working to appeal to both sides. The investigation and the judgment of the law were meeting no resistance from the Guild. Through this inaction, Conti would become a prime example to the rest of the Guildsmen, to the city’s criminal minds—if you messed up that badly, there was no saving you. You would be washed away with the rest of the gutter scum.
Such were realities that the Wilde Organization and its members understood intimately. Right under the EKP’s noses, after all, they orchestrated some of the city’s most beautiful crimes. Smiling before the very same organization’s former heiress (and still one of its most prominent members), Lea added, “How’re you feeling?”
“Like crap,” she replied, elbowing herself up into a semblance of a sitting position. If Lea was going to bring her food, there was no way she was passing that up; the food here tasted like cardboard, and she was pretty sure she was going to be stuck here for at least a few more days. She was beginning to think that Ci had talked to someone and convinced them to let her injuries heal mostly naturally. If that was the case, then Ci was going to be visiting a clinic soon.
“There isn’t shit to do here,” she continued, motioning for Lea to sit. Immediately, her mind began sorting relevant information, just in case Lea was here as Councilor Cerelia rather than Ash’s friend and former mentor. There wasn’t much of an age gap between them, but Lea had helped out Ash in more ways than she could count. “Ci was here a few days ago, haven’t been able to do any work since no one will let me, and I’m pretty sure the fuckers here hid my net com.” Which was really annoying; she’d been able to do some work from that. “How’ve you been?”
Between the attacks and now the murderer being Guild, Lea had been busy. She’d barely had time to steal some time with the other woman during Gala rehearsals, but they had been brief. It occurred to Ash just how few friends she actually had, but she pushed the thought away; there was a reason she wasn’t a social butterfly. The org came first, Guild second. Anyone who wasn’t in either of those couldn’t be trusted, and even the people she knew in the Guild and the org could only be trusted as far as she could blast them with an Aero mimic.
“Good, always am,” Azalea said, chipper. Drawing the box of food from the bag, she laid it over Ash’s lap with a set of utensils. The act was done with the easy familiarity of one who had often waited at bedsides. There was an air of contentedness, of rightness about the elder woman, too, as if she enjoyed the small tasks she could accomplish for the bedridden mime.
Which she did. To Lea, who was as individualistic as they came, it was a pleasure to be there for someone you cared about. She could still remember what Ash had been like as a newly minted dancer, rehearsing and perfecting her dances with unparalleled dedication. Of course, Azalea would not be aware of the particular reasons for this diligence until much later, when she ascended to the role of councilwoman. In retrospect, she was glad for having helped Ash however she could. As much as Lea respected the Wilde Organization now, she could not have said the same of the organization before Cian took the reins.
“I’m sorry you got tied up in this,” she continued, suddenly solemn, taking the bedside seat, “He’s not getting any help, thought you should know.”
“Good to hear,” she said, tearing open the container and taking in the scent of real food. “And it was my own fault. Ci had told me to take a vacation when this shit first started and I didn’t.” It was something she’d been thinking about - he didn’t want her dead, but he didn’t want her around either. Not that she could say that she wanted him around, but she sure as hell didn’t want him dead. She cared about him far too much.
“Any word on if he had help?” There was no way Conti could have pulled off that big of an operation without some. He was a second-rate machinist who could barely complete a project, but he’d had at least two constructs that had worked a little too well for her comfort. “Those constructs weren’t made by him.”
She wasn’t sure how much Lea knew about everything that had gone down; she’d been in the clinic since that night, and she doubted the EKP were going to talk openly about it. They’d probably say a little, tell people that the asshole had been caught and his latest victim survived.
Fuck, she thought. Work was going to be that much more of a hassle, and she knew that Mama was going to take advantage of it.
“None yet,” the councilwoman replied. Why would a better machinist help Conti, Lea had to wonder. There seemed little purpose in indulging an incompetent’s fetish. The EKP would have to stay on its guard; it certainly wouldn’t be the Guild’s priority to route out the city lowlives. Quite frankly, the whole thing might turn out to be good for business in the long run. The more the EKP occupied itself with small-scale crimes like these, the more easily the larger ones could be accomplished.
At any rate, it paid to have information. “Mind if I ask for a first-hand account of events?”
She had figured this was coming and had already outlined the salient points in her head. There were some things she hadn’t told the EKP - no need to bring any attention to the Guild than necessary - although she’d been planning to relay to Cian rather than directly to Lea. Probably better, even though she knew she’d still have to bring Ci into the loop. That was not a conversation she was looking forward to.
“Sure.” She took a bite of food really quick, chewing and savoring the flavor. If it didn’t taste like cardboard, it was heaven as far as Ash was concerned. “Constructs were new, not built by him. Conti was working on a fast-acting acid, thought he’d take out the less savory bunch of society. The acid compound dries so that it appears like an old scar.” This was common knowledge from the reports around the District, but the how had been a mystery.
“No clue on motive aside from field testing. His backer came by after he dragged me to the house. Apparently, he had another compound that he wanted to try on me, but his backer interrupted.” That man was the only reason Ash was alive. “Before you ask, I was in and out, and my vision was shot. I can remember and recognize the voice, but that’s it.” She hadn’t told the EKP this part. “Voice sounded cultured, probably noble. He made direct mention of the Guild, so either one of us, or Conti opened his fucking mouth.”
“Interesting,” Lea mused. Already, she was mulling over the components of such a compound, and, as a matter of habit, thinking of a base that would effectively neutralize the acid in solution. But it was only a theoretical exercise. Again, Lea reminded herself that despite her intellectual curiosity there was no need to become so devoted to the case. The EKP would take care of it. Her job was to keep abreast, to take advantage of the ruckus, and to ensure that Guild resources were protected.
Furthermore, if anything, the main concern was that the Guild identity had been leaked to a nobleman with questionable designs. While the Guild housed several from the nobility (indeed, far more than appearances would suggest), confounding variables such as this man could not be tolerated. She would have to have a word with Reinholdt or refer the issue to Escalidor. She made a mental note to speak with Judges and lawyers of the Guild as well. Odds were that one of them was involved in Conti’s trial, or, at the very least, that one of them was acquainted with someone that was. Any information that could be gleaned from Conti as to an aider or abettor would be useful. If they managed to come up with a list of suspects, they could always cross-reference against Ash’s memories, hazy as they were, of the nobleman in question.
Having decided upon her plan of action, Lea debated asking for more details. Well, the account was thorough enough. There was not much more that Ash could tell her, unless she was hiding some expertise in forensic toxicology.
“You might end up hearing from Council about this,” Lea said. “And, of course, let us know if you encounter the voice again.” Then, her professional demeanor melting into a mischievous grin, a coy tilt of the forehead, she continued,
"So, about Ci…"