Jareth (uncult) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-03-14 16:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, jareth monaco, peony min |
Who: Jareth & Peony
What: A check-in, a consult, a warning
Where: EKP office
When: Today, immediately after this
Rating: PG-13-ish because language and discussions of violence, suicide, other cheery things?
Status: Complete
It was already shaping up to be a long day, and it wasn’t even lunchtime. Cat purred next to his ear, content to be carried around like a sack of flour so long as her hume didn’t leave her alone. It had been annoying at first, having the damn thing follow him around, but he’d gotten used to her. So had everyone else at the office, if the bowls of milk he kept fucking stepping in were any fucking indication. There was a stack of cases on his desk to be dealt with, a meeting with some woman who was convinced that her husband had been murdered as opposed to committed suicide, and a incident report he needed to write up from a bungled burglary earlier in the week. He expected to walk into his office and sit down for a few minutes of quiet - Min was probably at lunch - before tackling the shit he needed to get done, not open the door to find Min still sitting there with Peony in a chair beside him. She came around every so often to drop the kid off food - which was good, the fucking boy was skinnier than a damned blade of grass, and he needed all of the food he could get with the amount of training Jareth was pushing on him - and mostly left him alone. It was awkward as fuck; they hadn’t really talked much since Banes’ disappearance. He’d meant to contact her, give her an update, but what could he provide? Still nothing. Try again next week? Frustrating as fuck and disturbing besides. He nodded towards her and sat behind his desk, grabbing the first file he could reach. Who needed a moment of quiet, anyway? Cat hopped off his shoulder and padded over to Peony, meowing insistently, as if informing the woman that she had invaded her territory without paying proper due to the creature. Jareth snorted and shook his head. Fucking cat. As for Peony, she was well accustomed to felines demanding of attention; though this one was still a bit gaunt (she felt the spine and ribs clearly as a hand stroked down short, bright fur), she seemed healthy and cheerful enough, and sociable, which suggested that she had had humans of her own once upon a time. She seemed to have claimed a human of her own once again; Jareth’s amused snort as the cat accosted Peony for attention showed that he did not entirely object to the idea. The cat jumped into her lap and, having turned a few circles, curled up in a compact circle of fur and limbs, apparently content to nap. Peony doubted that Quiz would be please later, but for the moment, her fingers settled on the cat’s head, scratching absently between the ears. “Hello, Jareth,” she said. “I see you and your new friend are getting along well.” The cat was not, of course, the topic she had come to discuss, but it was as good a place as any to start. “I hope not to keep you long, but if you might be able to spare me a few minutes, I would be grateful.” Jareth closed his eyes for a brief moment before nodding again. “There’s a room open down the hall.” He’d booked it for his waste of a time meeting later, and no one had put their name in for it before or after him. He gave Min a look. “Afternoon training is canceled. We’ll add in an extra session tomorrow afternoon.” At the very least, Min’s barely contained look of dismay was entertaining. He’d bulk that kid up yet. To Peony: “This way.” He pulled a few files from his drawer - the Banes case, as well as another one he’d wanted to ask her about - and led the way. Peony nodded to Pyr -- she would stop to say good-bye to him before she departed -- then dislodged the annoyed cat from her lap before following in Jareth’s wake to one of the small meeting rooms around the perimeter of the bullpen. The door was thick and solid as she closed it behind her, blocking out the rustling of papers and any other sounds made by those on the other side. There was some business in offices like these which required this sort of privacy. The cat had followed them and took up residence immediately in one of the two chairs pulled up to a scarred wooden table. Peony elected to stand. “I am going to assume,” she said, her tone calm and her voice quiet, “that Siana’s case is on the verge of being declared cold?” She understood the protocols, of course, and the fact that peacekeepers had only limited quantities of time at their disposal; a case without leads was a drain on departmental resources. It was sensible and practical, even if it was unfortunate. Still, she wanted to ask. “Yeah,” he said, voice revealing his frustration. There hadn’t been a damned thing to go on; the shit they’d found in the sewer was inconclusive, and the blood couldn’t be verified. They were still looking into it, but they were going on two months without a word or a clue. There was only so much time they could devote to the case; he assumed Peony understood this. After all, she’d been working with the damned EKP a hell of a lot longer than he’d been. “We’re still looking into things, but we haven’t found shit,” he added, carding a hand through his hair. Between Banes and fon Amell, he was lucky to get to his other cases. Not that he gave a shit about burglaries, but they had to get addressed eventually or Thornton would get on his ass. “I had thought that might be the case,” she said. A brief closing of her eyes was the only show of emotion before she nodded to him and said, “As her friend, then, and not your colleague, thank you for your efforts. Her family is holding a small memorial service for her this Sunday. Will you be attending?” She had not been surprised to receive the invitation; those who knew Siana best also knew that she was not the sort to disappear without giving word. It would afford them some closure, although there would never be a plot for her at the Necrohol. He hadn’t been planning on going - why make this his first? - and shook his head. “Wasn’t planning on it.” His plans had been stay home, get drunk, don’t think. There was that tiny nagging voice in his head (Aspel or Liana or Li, he could never be sure) saying he should, that he owed it to her, but fuck. Going meant she wasn’t coming back. He already knew that; he didn’t need some fucking ceremony to prove it. “Might, if I have time,” he added gruffly. He would make sure he didn’t. “I thought I would ask.” She did not push. Memorials were for the living, not the dead; they were for Siana’s family, for those who had been close to her, to find some way to connect with her one final time. Not everyone grieved the same way. “I will remit your condolences to her family, if you find there are more pressing matters,” she said. The offer was meant as a kindness, and she hoped he would take it that way. And that, she thought, was likely the last that would be said of that. There was little else the two of them could do. This subject was closed now. “In fact, I came to deliver a reminder and a warning,” she said after the few moments of silence had passed. “The first: I hope you will continue to enlist my services when you feel they may be of aid.” She was not bound by any formal agreement to the Knights of the Peace, of course, though it was with the Sage’s blessing that she performed these duties; still, her knowledge had assisted with many cases in times past and even with the absence of the person with whom she had worked she did not intend to withdraw the offer of assistance freely given. “It seems that it is quiet now, unless there are things I have not heard, but if that changes, I do hope that you will make use of me.” He nodded, this time in thanks. When Banes’ sister had come by the day before to let him know about it, he’d tried to clumsily offer his condolences, but he couldn’t do it. Too much guilt, too much anger. Too few answers. But Peony’s reminder gave him something to focus on, and he held out the casefile he’d wanted to ask her about. “Thanks. There a way to disguise a spell as a poison so that it’s untraceable?” He hadn’t forgotten the part about the warning, but one thing at a time. “Woman seems to think her husband was murdered and didn’t commit suicide like every-fucking-thing else says.” Peony thought for a moment before responding: “There are many things in this world that we of the Mages’ Guild do not yet know. The plague is only one example: part spell, part poison, part… other. We have yet to fully understand it, though we have found a means of curing it. I say this so that you do not take my opinion as an absolute truth, but in general: no. Magicks leave a particular trace, whereas poisons, ingested or otherwise, tend to leave another. Your medical examiner found traces of physical poison?” “No. Guy’d hung himself.” The only reason they were even bothering with this fucking farce was because the widow was some noblewoman who was very insistent. “Poison was ruled out, now the widow says it was a spell disguised as an untraceable poison.” He used his free hand to scrub at his face. If the woman was always like this, no wonder the guy had offed himself. “Ah,” she said. “How long after the death was the body found?” She could tell that he thought this line of questioning a waste of time, but it was best to be thorough, for the sake of the family of the deceased if nothing else. “Fifteen, twenty minutes. The corpse’s foot knocked over a vase.” “Then if the examining mage found no trace of magicks, it is unlikely any were used. My condolences to the widow.” Some cases, it seemed, would remain simple while others stagnated. A tragic thing, that a man would take his own life, but not a mystery. Such things were not unheard of even among those who purported to follow faram, whose writings forbade such action, let alone among others. “Do you have anything else that may benefit from my consultation?” she asked. “If not, there is still the matter of the warning.” “That was it, thanks,” he said, carefully cataloging the information to tell the stupid woman who kept haranguing the department. “What’s the problem?” He was sure that’s what it was. The least he could do was listen and pass it on if it was necessary. Peony wasn’t in the habit of wasting people’s time. “It is vague, I am afraid,” she felt the need to say; what she had for him was little more than conjecture, but she felt as though the warning ought to be made all the same. “In your work, you would do well to keep your eyes open for matters pertaining to the earth behaving oddly.” Each previous attack had been forewarned, one way or another. This, she thought, would be their next challenge. “If you encounter a situation where something appears not to be right, you must contact me right away. You and your colleagues encounter things that I do not.” Jareth frowned. She’d said it would be vague; she wasn’t fucking kidding. “The earth behaving oddly,” he repeated. “Like the earthquake?” That hadn’t really been odd, though, just fucking annoying. But if she was taking the time to talk to him about it, then it had to be important. There was something going on in that head of hers, and he was starting to learn that listening was usually a good idea. He’d come a long way since their first meeting in the library. He didn’t even suspect her of being a cultist anymore. Well, not much, anyway. “Vague as fuck, but I’ll keep an eye out.” Cat, who had been napping on a chair, chose that moment to hop onto the table and dig her claws into Jareth’s hip, meowing sleepily. “Damned Cat,” he grumbled, picking her up by the scruff of her neck and tossing her on his shoulder where she nudged his neck with her warm nose and started purring. “Yes,” she said, “like the earthquake. It was not, strictly speaking, simply an earthquake.” What it had been… Toku, in his wisdom and experience had not had answers. That worried her more than she cared to admit. “If we are to maintain the pattern, I do not think it will be long before the earth troubles us once more, and I fear the end result will be far more dire than a pit to be filled with dirt and smoothed over.” She smiled slightly, though, at the cat’s antics; the creature had little concern aside from her own comfort. Cats lived in the moment; it was something to be envied and occasionally emulated. “Your new friend seems to like you. I am glad you gave her a home.” Go fucking figure that she’d noticed a pattern. He nodded, though; at the very least, he could keep her briefed on any crazy shit that happened, though he wasn’t sure how much good it would do. “Huh? Oh.” He shrugged awkwardly with his non-Cat-laden shoulder. “Damn thing didn’t really give me a choice,” he explained, uncomfortable. He wasn’t an animal person, and if he could get rid of the thing… Well, he probably wouldn’t. Cats had issues with change, right? Wouldn’t want to stress the ball of fur out. “Thanks,” he said, “for the warning. I’ll keep you posted on anything we find.” He needed to get back to his desk, go over the casefiles, get ready for the widow from hell. Last thing he wanted or needed was to be thinking about Banes or the ground opening up and trying to swallow him whole. “It is vague because I am uncertain. I hope I am wrong,” she said quietly. She did not think she was. “I will wish you well with the rest of your afternoon, then. If I do not see you on Sunday,” and she already realized that she would not, “I am certain I will be back here before too long.” She reached out to scratch between the cat’s ears as she waited for him to open the door and show her out. It would not do to keep him from his work much longer. “I’ll walk you out,” he offered; he was learning that it didn’t hurt to be nice. Once he’d seen her out, he returned to his desk, dropped Cat onto the floor where she meowed in protest before climbing into his lap, and opened up a casefile. It had already been a long day, and it was only going to get longer. |