[ CLOSED ] The Buck Stops Here

[sulahnan]

WHO: Athessa, Bastien, Byerly, Colin, Deimos, Flint, Raas, Thranduil, Yseult
WHAT: Revenge for past trauma reveals a sinister plot
WHEN: The Month of Guardian (aka now)
WHERE: The Gallows and Hightown, Kirkwall in general
NOTES: CW: This plot deals with sexual assault, revenge, and murder. Mostly the aftermath of the assault, no graphic descriptions that I can foresee, but be cautious. Opting out and hand-waving is fine.

By and large, the beginning of the month of Guardian in Kirkwall is unremarkable. Business as usual, even with the ever increasing cost of sugar, coffee, and tea. But for the inhabitants of Lowtown, it comes with signs that their waking nightmares persist.

For the past few months of winter, Lowtown locals have been whispering about a rash of murders and disappearances among the Alienages. Deaths previously attributed to exposure to the harsh winter weather are rumored to be far more insidious; some have claimed that they noticed wounds on the bodies as they were being disposed of, but any attempts to bring this information to the City Guard have been met with indifference or empty platitudes.

Less widely noted, and harder to attach to a pattern, are the instances of working girls being hired to entertain at private functions and coming back...different. Or not at all. To the average person, it’s barely even news, but to anyone who spends time in the brothels and listens to the chatter within, it’s clear that these are not isolated incidents, nor are they without concern.

While the alleged murders in Lowtown have no clear culprit and thus are blamed on anyone from random strangers to demons and Crows, the goings-on at the brothels go hand-in-hand with mention of one name in particular: Devigny.

Comments

[sulahnan]

She hums thoughtfully and tilts her head. "I wonder if you could infuse something other than a staff with lyrium and use that as a focus instead of having to carry around a big chunk of wood..."

[keenly]

"Breathe."

[sulahnan]

"Sorry," she sighs, and turns to glance towards the estate out of the corner of her eye. "Anything yet?"

Barely before she's finished speaking, the clip-clop of hooves on cobblestone and the creak of a carriage heralds the arrival of visitors to the estate. She turns a bit more, still looking sidelong but so she can see more clearly. The huge front door to the house opens, and a servant steps out to greet the visitors at the carriage, opening the door for them and bowing his head.

"That's the footman," Athessa whispers. "Can you see who's in the carriage?"

[keenly]

"You're the one who can see in the dark," Colin whispers back, squinting at the carriage.

[sulahnan]

She squints as well, watching as the men get out and walk towards the open door of the estate. Their amiable laughter carries over the cobblestones, sounding like ghostly echoes by the time it reaches Colin and Athessa on their perch.

"I don't know them," Athessa frowns. She commits to memory what she can about their dress, their gaits, the carriage and driver, the horses in the time that she has, before the carriage totters around to the rear of the building. The footman closes the doors behind the two visitors, and for a long moment, nothing happens.

Then, a window to a room they've both seen lights up from within. The parlor looks the same as she remembers, the same as it was in the dream, and she finally turns to look directly at that window. Nobody in that room will be able to see into the darkness outside, so the light in her eyes won't matter.

First, the two visitors appear, talking and laughing, looking smug--she takes note of their faces, just in case. Then a third man appears, his back to the window as he speaks to his friends. Associates? It's hard to believe anyone that foul having friends.

"Come on," she hisses, as if sheer force of will can move the pieces on this board. "Turn around..."

[keenly]

When he does, the breath goes out of Colin's body. Last year, he discovered that the ensuing years made Lutair fatter and smugger. They've had a similar effect on Devigny, only Devigny seems to have thrived on it. Lutair was a simpler brute, Devigny is a successful one. He is greyer, but still sharp, still cruel. Colin's eyes turn to Athessa, watching her watch him.

[sulahnan]

If she has any doubt that the man is Devigny, the way he gestures emphatically while his servant pours three glasses of wine tamps it out. She didnt know what kind of affect it would have on her to see him after 13 years, but she never would have expected to go numb, when the mere mention of his name had made her feel like a coiled spring about to snap.

Realizing that she's holding her breath, she lets it go billowing into the cold air. She turns and sits with her back against the railing of the balcony, staring blankly at nothing. Her lungs work overtime, gulping in air the way she might after running from here to the docks without stopping.

OK, come on Athessa, you know what to do. Breathe in, count to four. Breathe out, count to four. Repeat until stable. Or, in this case, until you laugh, and tears escape from your eyes.

"I don't know what I expected," she says on the tail of that laugh, and presses her forearm across her eyes. The last thing she needs is for her stupid tears to freeze to her face.

[keenly]

Colin reaches to slide his arm across her shoulders and turn her away from the house they're surveying. "Let's get you out of here," he says quietly. They can always come back to gather more information, but right now, he's a lot more concerned about Athessa than anything else.

[sulahnan]

-

Over the course of the next week, they keep an eye on the comings and goings of Devigny and a few of his regulars. The two men they saw on the first night came back once and only once, though four other nobles of the same caliber made similar visits after dark. The guards they are able to identify as being in Devigny's pocket amount to only three, so far, but all-in-all the goings-on at the Devigny Estate are pretty dull. Business meetings, soirees, grocery delivery and a steady flux of nighttime and daytime staff.

And, after the third day, Athessa is able to conduct surveillance with only momentary panic, rather than the mind-halting kind. It's still not a good time, but it's progress.

A week to the day after their first stakeout, they're once again tucked away, able to see and not be seen. Everything is, for the time being, as dull as every other night.

"You'd think he'd change it up after thirteen years," Athessa scoffs, reacting to what Colin has just told her about his solo reconnaissance at the Crimson Cat. "I guess it's easier to go with someone he's got history with. Madame Lette...I bet she knows what he's up to and just doesn't care."

[keenly]

"When they find something that works, they stick with it, and anyone who knows about it sticks with it as well because the status quo is easy and believing nothing can be done means they're not horrible for not doing it." Colin clasps his hands, elbows on his knees tiredly. It's been a hard week.

[sulahnan]

Her groan is part frustration with the scenario described, and part exhaustion. Between her two-month stint of insomnia, bard training, and this, she's pretty well knackered. Her forehead thuds against her forearms, propped on her own knees in a position similar to Colin's.

"Do you think Riftwatch will care?" No, that came out wrong. "I mean, do you think they can do anything about this? It's not war stuff, or spy stuff, it's just...Kirkwall stuff."

[keenly]

He hesitates, because he isn't sure. After a moment, he answers as truthfully as he can.

"The organization as a whole, probably not. Byerly would, though. And if he's already got information about Devigny on his desk, Riftwatch's interests may align. Otherwise they'd leave it up to the city guard."

[sulahnan]

"I wonder how much sway his pet guards have," she muses, lifting her head to glance toward the estate. One of the servants is going through the house, snuffing out the lights. "If they're low enough, any good guards might actually be able to do something."

[keenly]

"The Guard-Captain got the position taking down her corrupt predecessor, didn't she?"

[sulahnan]

Athessa shrugs. It's probably something she should know, but doesn't.

"Right on time," she says in a soft sing-song at the sound of an approaching carriage, but it's not the carriage of any of Devigny's previous callers. It's smaller, drawn by only two horses instead of four, and the curtains on it are drawn. None of the others bothered to hide from prying eyes, so why this one? "That one's new..."

She shifts to her stomach so as to minimize her silhouette, and watches intently.

[keenly]

Colin follows suit, squinting at the new arrivals and frowning at the drawn curtains. Have they been observed? Are they in danger right now? He doesn't think so, or they would have been caught before any new arrivals. Whoever is in the carriage is being hidden, but not from them specifically.

[sulahnan]

Even less like the previous callers, it seems this one was not expected. Or at least, not greeted with an awaiting footman and an open door.

Instead, it isn't until the driver of the carriage jogs to the door and knocks that the footman answers. As he approaches the carriage, a woman steps out and to the side to let the footman retrieve something, ostensibly luggage, from within. Why the luggage wouldn't be on the top or rear of the carriage is strange, but Athessa is more interested in who the woman is.

"Colin," she whispers, reaching out to grip his arm and continuing to stare with rapt attention. "That's Madame Lette. From the Crimson Cat."

And then, the footman reappears, but not with luggage. For a man of unimpressive bulk and stature, he's surprisingly strong, seeming to heft the unconscious form of a young woman over his shoulder. He bows his head to the Madame, who clamors back into the carriage, and walks back towards the front door of the estate.

"We have to do something," she barely hesitates before starting to push herself up, clearly intending to rush in head first.

[keenly]

She is stopped by Colin's grip on her arm. It's not a gentle grip, either. He's looking in horror at the scene and everything in him wants to save this woman the way no one saved him--except one still, small part in the core of him that always dictates such things, always urges caution. He is often given too much to caution, but he does not think that is the case here. Words fail him, and he must stop to try to gather them and explain to Athessa.

[sulahnan]

Her attempts to free herself from his grip are futile, and she watches the carriage disappear and the door close on the man and victim.

"Colin!" She insists, still in a whisper but pitched with urgency. "We can't just sit here and do nothing!"

[keenly]

He wants to believe her. He already hates himself for what he is about to say.

"Athessa," he whispers. "If we do this, if we go in with no plan or backup, she will be the last one we are able to save from him."

[sulahnan]

"Then what do we do? What do we do??" Best case scenario, another girl gets abused and dumped off to fend for herself, or shoved into a brothel to keep her silence. Worst case, she's as good as dead.

[keenly]

Colin bites down on both lips, eyes on the victim, then eyes on Athessa.

"We go to Byerly," he says quietly, "and get his help. This man needs to die, and we'll only have one chance at it."

[sulahnan]

She can't afford to hesitate, to think on it any longer than Colin already has, so she nods.

"Okay."