Mag Paget, Shotgun Knight (clippedwing) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-04-28 23:49:00 |
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Jareth had let her out of the interrogation room and excused himself, on to other business or to chase the new leads, and it had taken her a few seconds to stop staring at the door to the room, as though it held answers. The quota of grief allotted to Kamon had been met months ago; she had said her goodbyes to him, never thinking she would see him again, and gone on. Yet as she made her way out of the EKP offices, she was filled with a sort of disorienting numbness. If she crossed paths with any familiar faces (and there were a few who had grown used to seeing her around, due to her friendship with Bram) she did not see them. Her steps were slow at first. She looked straight ahead as she walked, not really seeing what she looked at, and avoided collisions through a minor form of divine intervention. Her feet led her to Bahamut Hall of their own accord, and she knew why. The one person that she needed to talk to would be here. At the thought of seeing Aspel a sudden sense of urgency invaded her and she raced through the hallways to her friend’s office. Much like at home, she did not bother to knock before walking in. She closed the door behind her in silence and placed a hand on the back of the chair intended for visitors, as though she could not make her mind up whether to sit down or not. There was no easy way to have this conversation, and so she chose the quick way. “Kamon’s dead,” Mag said. A curious brow rose at Mag’s sudden appearance, and her wordless entrance. Generally speaking, even when the other woman was having a bit of a rough day, there were some words of greeting if joke, or serious, but the uneasy demeanor really told it all. Just as the councilor was about to open her mouth to speak, was considering the thought of ‘What ever is the matter?’ Mag spoke, answering the question almost immediately. The first reaction was bitten down. Admittedly, with tremendous difficulty, but it was restrained none-the-less. “How so?” Mag took a deep breath to calm down and steady her voice. It did nothing. "Burnt to a crisp. But not burnt enough to be unrecognisable, I suppose," she said. "I was just at the EKP offices. Talking about his visit, and my alibi." “Mm.” Came a low confirmatory noise, a slight nod of her head given. It made sense to some degree, but… It sounded like someone was attempting to make an example of the bastard. But what were they trying to send a message for? Suddenly, Aspel was yanked from her thoughts regarding this when Mag spat out that information about the EKP being involved… Of course they were. A murder like that just wasn’t overlooked in the city. Not like they could be in the country. A spike of anger ripped through her, a thought regarding how she ought to go down there and have words of her own with them, but it was quickly bitten back as well, instead she simply offered. “And you told them?” "What little there was to tell." Mag's fingers (knuckles white) released the back of the visitor's chair and she started pacing. "That he came to see me, and said he was in trouble. That he asked for my help, and I didn't give it. And now he's dead." She raked in a shuddering breath and glanced at her friend, then looked away before saying, "I did not kill him, but right now it feels like I did." “You had nothing to do with it.” Of course, that was Aspel’s first instinct, and her gut reaction. “Whatever trouble he faced, he was enveloped in long before his visit with you.” An unspoken thought lingered swirling about her brain, and it caused Aspel’s chest to tighten. If Mag had helped him, and he’d still run into the kind of trouble that had had him burned to a crisp then… Well, it hadn’t happened, and she’d be thankful for that. “Do you have an alibi?” Mag ran a hand through her hair, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm not worried about that. Kiernan came over not long after Kamon left so I couldn't have killed him." As though all the energy had drained out of her, she slumped into the visitor's chair. "I didn't kill him nine months ago, I wouldn't have killed him now." She shook her head and looked down at her hands. "I never even thought I'd see him again." “Burned to an identifiable crisp does not quite suit your style.” Was what Aspel thought to add as an odd method of reassurance. It may not have been a particularly kind thing to say in some instances, yet it was the truth of the matter, Mag had a bit more tact in murder than that… They both did. Really, if they were questioning Mag, Aspel ought to not be far behind. Another thought was bit back as the smith attempted to formulate how to approach her next point. “That is quite the reasonable assumption, but certainly they are merely making their rounds, no?” Mag nodded. "Yeah, I suppose. I don't think they have much to go on. He never spent too long in the city. Brief visits, get business wrapped up and... well, you remember." A rueful tilt to her mouth; of course Aspel would remember, because that had meant Mag's visits had always been just as brief. Suppressing an apology for things that could no longer be changed, she continued. "He only had a few contacts and I don't imagine any of them are falling over themselves to help out the EKP. I'm the only lead they have, I guess." She paused, took a deep breath. "He left a letter for me." “Let us assure that remains a fact.” Aspel’s eyes had hardened a bit, her jaw locking to some degree. She’d spent several years working around the law, while at the same time trying to - in many ways - support it. “I believe it will be beneficial if you spend your nights for the next few weeks in company of at least one other until the situation is squared away.” A pause. “It may also be advisable to remain within the public eye as much as you can stand.” Admittedly, it could look bad to be covering one’s ass quite that much, but at the same time, it was worse to hide away, wasn’t it? “Not every night, and day of course, but often enough.” No matter how much Mag wished Aspel weren’t right, she knew her friend’s advice was sound. She had an alibi, but perhaps the only way to chase away every shred of doubt was to continue with her life as usual, as though nothing was amiss. “You’re right,” she said. “I’ll still be attending training every day. And… well, I’ll go get drinks every once in a while, as usual. I’ll drop by and see Vivi.” Perhaps it was cold of her, to act as though everything was all right―but what else could she do? Sighing, she buried her face in her hands. To give her feelings the shape of coherent sentences when they were a jumbled mess seemed an impossible task, but there was one thing she knew. “It’ll end up a cold case, if all they have is me. I don’t know anything.” She shook her head. “I thought it was over, and then he showed up, and then he got killed, because he’s an idiot. I want to know who. Just so I can step away from this, no loose ends.” A voice inside her head whispered too good at stepping away, Paget, and yet not good enough, but under the weight of everything else, that voice was easily quelled. |