Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby Katie » Wed Jul 31, 2013 4:46 am

Despite his whiskey, Tomias prided himself in his properness. He may have had every intention on interrogating Catch, with the distant hope of beating him for a little while, but he wasn't rude by any stretch. He returned his flask into his belt. The docile man shook with his nervousness and that was good, as far as Tomias was concerned. It meant demeanor alone would get honesty out of him.

When the cup of water was offered, Tomias drank it. It wasn't the best, but water never was; it tended to be more risky than poker played on a fifty-deck. "Thank you," he even said before Catch began his explanation. He had looked to Lentham who temporarily took the reigns of the conversation. Lentham wasn't as direct as he; his approach was more of a wide, pouncing sort, while Tomias moved quickly and straight towards the target. Raptors and cheetahs made an interesting combination and for the briefest moment, he felt a touch of sorrow for Catch.

"Few fires, indeed," Tomias agreed, nodding to Lentham. "None of which seemed to have any witnesses, of course." He sipped his water and looked back to Catch, the unfiltered mess already beginning to knock around his stomach. "If you would, tell us all you saw. Your walks at night must lend you some sights that sleepers don't see."
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby catch » Wed Jul 31, 2013 7:55 am

A few fires. A few windows broken. This is the Constabulary, has always been. And yet, Catch, from his selfish viewpoint, cannot help the bitterness that rises in his throat. He stares at these two men, hard-drinking, hard-life men, with their back-and-forth and their words, and he cannot help but blurt his thoughts past his teeth.

"Wh-wh-why are you here? Why aren't you st-st-st-stopping Rhaena f-f-from taking everyone's minds!"

It was a madman's demand, of course. How many so paranoid have come, in one way or another, into Lentham's lap? Tomias, perhaps, not so much, but Lentham? Catch glares at the bowl he has for his water, not daring to take a sip, though his tongue is swollen and throbs in his mouth. As if it were drugged, or poisoned. But despite his outburts - or because of it - he would press on, his voice thin and angry and quivering.

"I was. I was out walking. Looking f-f-for dolls, and coats, and th-th-the things p-p-people throw away. Th-then everyone was yelling and th-th-there was a fire." It wasn't entirely a lie. Giuseppe is only a strange sort of doll, wasn't he? Dead skin packed with animate flesh. The things he has seen. Catch takes a deep breath -

And if they do not stop him, Catch would ramble on about the Things he has seen. Muggings and adultery, conspiracies unrelated to fires or rhaena-swain, attempted rapes and dice and gambling and drinking. He would talk about the cats he has seen, and how to tell one from the other. The stories of a hundred feral dogs. Thousands of conversations snatched away by lurking under windows left open to let in a summer's breeze.
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby Katie » Thu Aug 01, 2013 1:09 am

Tomias had been aware of Catch's ramblings. His brains were disjointed, poorly sewn together by horrors that danced behind his eyeballs. The thoughts flowed like pottery off a falling shelf, tumbling in disarray and smashing into bits. Tomias placed his cigarette back in his mouth, puffing it patiently, his lips pinching around the paper end.

The rambling continued and without forewarning, Tomias' meaty fist slammed on the table. His own water glass jumped. His face was lined with his scars, his blue eyes having long forgotten kindness, and stitchings of emotions had become ungathered. Tomias did not care for a madman, but what he knew. It was slowly becoming a chore of shifting through shit to find diamonds.

"Enough," he said. "Back to the fire. When you saw it, did you see anyone? Did the fire begin from the inside or was the outside already burned?" Because he didn't care about cats or people named Rhaena or the paranoia of madmen.

He felt his headache returning. Ignoring his water, he removed his cigarette and brought up his flask, gulping the drink. This was now his interrogation and his foreward-leaning posture gave Lentham little avenue to participate.
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby catch » Thu Aug 01, 2013 9:10 pm

The fist was a fright, a frightful noise that cut off Catch's words, and the madman's face was injured, his skin mottling at the interruption. He'd only done what they asked. He'd only done what they wanted, telling them of the things he had seen. The fires. Back to the fires. Catch's mouth worked, lips trembling for a man who did not care, who had grown all out of kindness into something Myrken can use. A Constable.

"It was on f-f-fire," the madman says, once he grasps, vaguely, that Tomias nor Lentham would be taken in by tears. "Wh-wh-when I g-g-got there. There was a scream, and all b-b-bright, and th-then everyone m-m-moved about and b-b-brought water. And, and th-then I left, b-b-because I had cakes and I d-d-didn't feel so well and the b-b-b-burn-smel was m-m-making me f-f-f-feel ill." He could not help his stutter. Tomias frightened him, and his teeth and tongue answered that fright, and Catch hated himself for it.

They were not even lies. He did not feel bad, lying to such men.
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby Lent » Fri Aug 02, 2013 3:23 am

Lentham was drawn back, was sipping from his flask. Eddington was taking initiative, and that was well and good. Good experience right up til Catch twisted his neck off. No demons in Myrken for months. Calmed down a bit, really, everything had. Tenor had changed. Things had gone from blood and darkness to light and poofy, supposed to be poofy like a dress. Ended up being poofy like Treadwell's gout covered big toe. Olwak taking everyone's mind. Seemed unlikely. Seemed hard to wrap your head around. Seemed like a migrane is what it seemed like. Fire, nice, neat, hot, easier to grasp. No thanks to the Olwak bit then.

As for the rest? "Just watched. Hn. Not sure that's like you from what I've seen. From what I've read. Think you'd do something,good or bad. What if your hut here was on fire. Think those people would have helped, unless they wanted it to burn down. They wouldn't. Leaves a man to wonder. You want the inn to burn down?"
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby Katie » Mon Aug 19, 2013 3:04 am

The problem here had been that Tomias truly didn’t know Catch. Lentham had the required knowledge. Had he not spoken up, Tomias may have disregarded the hole in his story. Catch was a madman, and as far as the younger, less experienced Constable was concerned, indifferent to, if he even understood, the suffering of others. But Lentham had caught some sliver of truth, and that initially angered Tomias. Had the man actually the stones to lie to him?

A good beating would’ve gotten the truth faster, but Lentham had his ways.

Tomias’ blue eyes watched the man, with a gaze of icebergs and frozen seas. There was something the man was trying to hide, but he knew how the questions worked. He would have to answer Lentham’s first.

And when he did, Tomias would immediately fire, to keep him talking, “Was there someone in the inn that you’d like to see burn, Catch? Someone you could not murder yourself?” Then, he sipped his water. Fine water, that.
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby catch » Mon Aug 19, 2013 9:34 am

"I d-d-don't like fires." Flustered was a term that could be used, definitely flustered. He looked from one man to the other, stabbing with his roving eyes. He forgot, entirely, that he had already made one excuse - that he, perhaps, did not need another. "F-f-fires burn. I d-d-don't like them - and there were already people th-th-there, so many people, so why - I m-m-mean, people were already helping. I f-f-felt ill -"

Tomias' question pierced. It took Catch's breath away, sucked all the air out of his lungs. He could not answer it, but stared at him, at eyes that were so cold and full of ice. When he can speak, it is a single word, and followed by nothing else, no explanation, no babbling excuse.

"No." Simple and short, and not at all satisfactory. He does not even ask if they wished their cups refilled.
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby Lent » Tue Aug 20, 2013 1:12 am

"No?" Was a question, wasn't it? Good on Tomias. Right to the heart of the matter. Was a good set up too. All of this was a little cruel but Catch had done his share of bad. Lentham kept his eyes open. Heard things. Saw things. Talked to people. Sort of missed the Gaol too. Had a good place to hide in a room there, and sit and drink and sleep. A little musty but better than his desk. Was better. Now it's gone.

Strange the things to hold a grudge about.

"Hnn. Who was in there? Young woman. Eliza Jacobson. Burnt. Got hurt the worst of anyone there. Wears a veil around town now. Only able to eat soup. You have a reason to want her to get hurt?" His voice was laconic, not accusatory. Just matter-of-fact. "Because she did, is all."
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby Katie » Wed Aug 21, 2013 2:52 am

There were only so many ways to burn innocent people. In Tomias' Derrian experience, it was by fast-firing questions; vague, open-ended, and assuming questions forced fearful people to trip on their own words, make mistakes, admit to things even if they weren't really guilty. He had learned this, because he had to do it. The scent of burning flesh haunted his nostrils, the phantom of screams finding their ways into his ears until he closed his eyes and wished he was deaf.

They turned into distant wails when he opened his eyes. His skin, with a shadow of stubble, looked pale as freshly kneaded dough, his jaw tightly set as his teeth ground enamel like wheat and grain. His tactics worked, he knew, perhaps better than Lentham's and the small boy that lived inside his head, the boy he used to be and now forgot, screamed at the top of his lungs to stop his malicious practices.

In those few minutes, he learned Catch was not stupid. He was pretty sure he was a liar, and definitely sure that his marbles went missing long ago, but not stupid. He answered with one word, but it made no difference what the word was: it was the hesitation. There were things he was hiding, things that Tomias knew how to fish out.

He leaned forward. "Do you enjoy knowing that a woman is hurt?" His eyes watched the man, studying his face for twitches and shifting, his own eyes almost unblinking. "Who else was in the inn? Why didn't you try to help? You say others were helping putting out the fire, but how cruel can you be to assume that others would save those who burned? Who did you want dead, Catch?"

He watched him, more questions prepared, and more ways to overwhelm him into honesty.
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby catch » Wed Aug 21, 2013 6:05 am

"I d-d-don't know," Catch said. Lentham first. Lentham, because he isn't as threatening, even as his logic pushes and probes. Catch knows the dangerous hole in his head; before he says anything else, he pulls the collar of his shirt up, up, tucks it tightly over his scar, so that it forms a cowl around his pale, lean features, a barrier between these relentless men and his rains. "I d-d-don't - I don't know who that is, why would I hurt her? Why w-w-would I want to - to hurt anyone?"

It is a good question. It's an accusation of his own, and Catch thinks himself clever for it. The initial thrust had shaken him, but he rallies back, rails back, thrusting forward as if he were a predator.

"I d-d-don't know who that is, and I'm n-n-n-not cruel, and wh-wh-what would I have done - what would I? Wave m-m-my head at th-the fire?" If he could have, then maybe he could have cause a sliver to dart out, to grab Giuseppe and drag him back. Catch forsakes holding up his cowl to show them, show them broad, calloused paws, with fingers slender enough to be clever. Deceiving.

"I'd have t-t-taken a bucket, and d-d-dropped it all over the, the stones, b-b-because I was frightened and sick, and your - your people w-w-would have cursed me, curse th-th-the madman, and told me t-t-to move aside. I know you. I know how, how you p-p-people are, wh-what you've b-b-become! If it's n-n-not clever or quick or beautiful, you're useless."

Those hands come back up, clutching the shirt tightly under his chin, and he glares at the whiskey-stink men with barely-constrained fright, and a rage he dare not act upon.

He dare not even think of Giuseppe. These men would see.
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby Lent » Thu Aug 22, 2013 2:20 am

"Clever." there was a moment's hesitation, a pause. McCoy would have filled in the gap. This was just hesitation. Eddington doesn't get the chance. "Quick." Less of a gap this time. "Beautiful." Lentham didn't spit. More of a swallowing noise instead. Dry throat. Loud swallow. Chewing nothing at all for a moment. Chewing the air. Chewing the scenery. Just chewing. "Mm. Hmm."

A look to Eddington. A look to himself. A look to Catch. "That's us. Clever quick. beautiful, right Eddington?" No laugh. Serious business, this. Talking about a young woman that was hurt. Talking about others that might have been. Talking to Catch. "We're not. Miss Jacobson was. Now she's not. Sounds like you prefer it that way iffin you ask me."
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby Katie » Thu Aug 22, 2013 8:02 am

Tomias had fallen silent long enough to regard Catch. Pushed to his limits, the madman chattered like a cat at birds and squirrels before pouncing on them, but his intelligence was hardly hidden within the words. While initially frustrated by them, the ever-present scowl on the man’s face softened to a curiosity. Thick, blonde brows gathered over his eyes.

Then, for the first time, he smiled and nodded his head. Now he got it.

“Convenient,” he said, looking to Lentham. “I was not aware that the insane get to choose when to go nuts and when not to." Catch could declaratively say, “No,” when he had to, but when it came to explaining himself, the stuttering worsened and he hid behind the very insanity he supposedly suffered. To protect himself further, he used the very same excuses others would assume of him: that he was too stupid to put out a fire.

But that wasn’t it. “Catch,” he said. “Accept my apologies. I have been a rude house guest.”

He gave a look to Lentham, a stern one, one that spoke messages. I’ve got this, it said.

His eyes turned back to Catch, leveled, kind almost, if it weren’t for the empty wells that still lived there. “Tell me. Did you know Ms. Jacobson?”
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby catch » Thu Aug 22, 2013 8:18 am

Less a cleverness, and more a sign of the abysmal depths of the madman's self-confidence. Even saying it, he believes it himself; even if he wanted to put the fire out, he believes his uselessness. His nothingness. The resounding quiet greeting his efforts was the sign of how he should be set aside, ignored, cast away as a useless curiosity. Something to be ogled at and questioned by men who stank of rum and faint fire.

It was exceedingly clever, and Catch had no idea.

"I d-d-don't know Miss - Miss J-jacobson. I d-d-don't know who th-th-that is."

He smiled. He apologized. Catch's eyes were full of that hunted wariness, but he cannot help - he cannot - the smile that twitches on his lips. Hopeful.

"You - you are f-f-forgiven," Catch demures, an automatic response. Learned.

"Is sh-sh-she a, a swain?" Lentham may be right in his accusation, for there is a lingering contempt there, ready to spring out at the slightest affirmation.
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Re: Dousing the Flames: For the Honor of the Hircine Hogget

Postby Lent » Thu Aug 22, 2013 8:49 am

Myrken had dearths. Dearth of sense. Dearth of food sometimes. Dearth of people who haven't been stabbed once or twice. Lots of dearths. One thing it never had a dearth of? Rope. Not any kind of rope though. A special kind. The sort that you use to hang yourself. Eddington wanted to give it a go? Lentham had rope to spare. Lentham always had rope to spare. There would just be a little nod as he spoke on.

Swain. The lake. Demons everywhere. Lentham wiped his brow. Wanted to give Eddington a chance. The dream. The crossbow. Jirai. Had to speak. Some things were known. "Only one making kissyfaces at drow is you, Catch. Sounds like a poor young lady got burnt trying to help people and you're not too sad about that. Anyone else you want to see burnt too?"
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