Logs:Questioning Old Enmities
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| RL Date: 10 October, 2015 |
| Who: Keysi, Jo, Quint |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Crom Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: Quint debriefs the two High Reachian riders with involvement in the murder at Crom Hold's gather. |
| Where: Rooms, Crom Hold |
| When: Day 18, Month 13, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: R'hin/Mentions, M'kris/Mentions, Oriane/Mentions, Aughan/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Normal rules of witness questioning bent a little for dramatic purposes~ |
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| After some conferring (and, undoubtedly, the observation that both the riders seem calmer by comparison in company, the two Reachian riders are led into what looks like a small sitting room. It's windowless, but there's a low hearth (currently not lit), couches, and a small serving table on which empty glasses are stacked. One of the guards stands inside the room, undoubtedly a couple more outside. Quint, and an apprentice loaned by the local harper -- who has gone to question M'kris -- carry in writing implements. "Sit down, please," the harper bids them, gesturing towards one of the couches. Jo's a mess, but it's a mess composed into at least appearing like she'll be coherent for as long as it takes. She walks mechanically in and drops down into one of the chairs, staring straight ahead and staring at nothing in particular. Those tears have dampened her face, and her eyes are red-rimmed. She's almost hunched forward, as if craddling the blood on her halter to herself. Indeed remarkably more compliant, Keysi needs little to instruct her direction once they've left the grounds of the Gather. Stern grey eyes and an expression that continues to be steeled for sake of the current situation and to keep herself together in the moment, evaluates only what's directly in front of her. Everything else is, well, hazy, and she'd miss most anything except the most obvious of questions on the way to the sitting room. Quint's voice stirs her attention and the gravity of her stare, but she sits silently, watching only him. It takes some arranging, until the apprentice is set up to properly write. While he does so, Quint murmurs to the guard, and some words are exchanged. A short time later, one of the kitchen hands brings in a pitcher of water, setting it on the serving table. Quint splashes water into each of the glasses, moving over to offer one in each hand to the Reachian riders. At some silent signal -- when he glances at the apprentice -- Quint asks gently, "I'll do my best to make this swift. Your names, homes, and ranks please, for the record." Jo doesn't take the water. There's not even a crass joke thrown in, either. Clearing her throat - which does no good - "Jo. High Reaches Weyr. Wingsecond." Her tone is hoarse, and she still stares ahead. Keysi continues to watch Quint with an unrelenting stare, but even when he comes over to offer her water, she doesn't even bother to take it- only leaving an awkward pause to offer her rather impolite decline. Unwilling or unable to look at Jo, she waits in an uneasy, stiff silence until she's answered before offering her own, "Keysi." A breath, a pause to collect further stability to her harsh, sharp tone, "High Reaches Weyr. Wingrider." If Quint seems upset that the water isn't taken, it doesn't show. Instead, he sets the glasses on the table nearest the pair, giving Jo a wordless nod of thanks for her name, glancing at the apprentice, and then to Keysi in turn with another nod for her. "Good. Now," he moves back over to a seat, giving them space. His tone is easy, unruffled by the harshness of Keysi's or the hoarseness of Jo's. "Understand, I have no stake in this. I know neither Monaco's Weyrleaders nor the... nor R'hin." He leans forward, marginally, glancing between them. "Tell me what happened." It takes awhile for Jo to speak. She hears him, it's clear, but her eyes doesn't stray anywhere but some spot on the wall behind Quint. The silence will lengthen to awkward levels until she straightens up a bit and states, "I went with him to the gather. It's....it's somethin' we always do together. Sometimes. So we went." Silence. A soft snort. "We were there for awhile," she goes on to say hoarsely, "when he noticed the bronze. Maybe Leiventh told'im. I dunno. There's been trouble between them. He mentioned it'n I knew them bein' in the same place..." her throat closes, but it opens again. "Well. He wanted to put all the cards on the table with him. He told me to go get him. Bring him. Tacuseth didn' think it was a good idea, but...." Heavy pause. A heavy sigh. "Gettin' M'kris to come was easy," she says, dry. "A name. A smile. I gotta a bottle of booze. R'hin just wanted to talk to him. That's all. I bring him to the tent'n R'hin was there, 'n..." Pause. "Things escalated," she grates out, now meeting Quint's gaze. Tears threaten. "I just...stood there. M'kris has been drinkin'. The arguin' started'n they go at each other. I saw his knife. I saw it 'n I should've..." Jo slumps back. Keysi's stare breaks at the question, looking down at the floor, though unfocused strict gaze is really locked on nothing at all following the adjustment in Quint's question. Passage of time doesn't matter and that awkward silence is festered by the brownrider as well. Before her mind decides to craft an answer- as simple as hers could have been, Jo speaks. She listens. At first only peripherally, but with more words and more story, comes more interest. She still can't turn her head to look at the bluerider. At the last words, she closes her eyes, stalwarting against anything else besides eventual words coming from herself. "I want to see him." It's clearly not an answer to the question, but given the details Jo's willing to divulge, it's all she starts with. Quint is patient, or at least pretends at it well. "Noticed the bronze... Feyzeth?" the harper prompts, gently, his gaze on Jo's. The apprentice scribbles, dutifully, not looking up. "M'kris pulled his knife first?" the Journeyman clarifies. "What were they arguing about?" He seems content to let Jo speak for now, although his gaze does flicker to Keysi on occasion, taking note of her facial expressions. When Keysi finally does speak, there's a flicker of compassion that warms the harper's expression for a moment. "I can't promise it, but you have my word, I will try." "Yes," Jo confirms on Feyzeth with a single nod. She is clearly distraught, holding it in barely. When Quint asks about the knife, "R'hin had his," she says with a knife. "R'hin rushed him. They were fightin' over some stupid Weyrleadership. Somethin' 'bout Oriane, 'n 'bout him not gettin' over it. I didn' care. Ya hear me?" She's staring hard at Quint now. "I cared when I saw the blood 'n I went to him. He...died there 'n...he looked at me." Looking away now, "Ya know what it's like to watch someone die as they stare at ya? To watch'em leave ya?" There's a hard edge to her tone. While not entirely sated with his assurance of effort, Keysi is quieted by it. Her pale eyes fix again on the wall across from them, her shoulders tensed as Jo continues on with what matters. Though with all the stiffness she maintains to sit so tall, so still, the bluerider's words make her visibly flinch. After some time, she takes a sharp breath, having forgotten she was holding it. "The details matter, Jo. The details make the tapestry, and if the tapestry has holes..." Quint spreads his hands. He doesn't shy from the hard stare of the bluerider, nor her latter question. "I do," he says, softly, watching her closely, even if she's looked away. He means it, too, and whether that truth is visible or not, the harper seems genuine enough in that sentiment. He doesn't attempt to soften the words that follow, a bland truth to them, too: "But he is dead now, and it is the living who must account for what happens, henceforth." The sharp breath of Keysi draws his gaze to her, silently questioning. Maybe he means for her to speak, now, to give Jo a moment; maybe not. Jo watches him steadily, letting the silence spread. "The only hole in this tapestry is the one that bastard caused," Jo grates out through red eyes. "R'hin told me things, but....I didn' think M'kris was capable of this." Shaking her head, "All I know is that they were arguin' 'bout Monaco. R'hin wanted it out once'n for all with him. If I had known M'kris was gonna...." She shakes her head again, still slouching back and drawing into herself. Keysi shifts her focus that slight degree to Quint, as he establishes the blunt fact. Grey eyes study his face again, though maybe with not as much ferocity as when they first arrived. Of her own, there's little to derive, but it clearly takes her effort to keep her expression so straight. Following Jo's words, there may be a more rapid blink once, a tilt of her head as if she wants to look over but still won't. When there's another length of silence, she rallies words, "I wasn't in the tent." Is simple, sharp, "I came late to the Gather." She shifts in the seat, as if wanting to stand, "I didn't know about-" A hand manages to be raised about an inch in an attempt to gesture, but she gives up on it before much comes of it. "That remains to be seen," Quint says in response to Jo, frowning for the first time. "It's hard for dragonriders to get worked up enough to kill each other, since they know what's at stake. Was Monaco that important to both of them?" He's shaking his head, glancing at the apprentice for a moment, as if to determine whether the teenager's caught up to where they are, and then he focuses on Keysi. "I am sure you can understand there'll be some doubt about that, given -- why did you attempt to get into the tent?" "I had a father that became a different person when he drank," Jo says, her tone heavy and grave. "Back at the Hold. I've seen my share of folks under the influence. Monaco was...." She pauses as if to consider it, this time finally looking over at Keysi as she says, "I can believe Monaco was everythin'." Looking at Quint, "The Weyrleadership knot can be everythin' to many." Her tone is grave. Deep. "Power like that...I'm sure ya know yer history with Lords'n theirs." Keysi's eyes narrow in a flickering of anger with rash disbelief at the question, which is quickly rerouted to looking squarely down at the floor. Her tone following, at least, is less abrasive and more of a usual neutral. "He was already gone." As if that explains it all, but she doesn't quit at that even though she appears to want to, "I had to see him. I had to see- I didn't believe." Her words are resolved. "I couldn't.." The brownrider closes her eyes briefly to take another breath, "There was nothing I could have done to change anything." But that, it seems, isn't directed at Quint. "I do know my history," Quint allows, "But I also know it takes many things for a man to actually bloody their hands. And it seems like the... like M'kris already had everything he wanted. Would someone who got everything they want risk jeopardizing it by killing, do you think?" His is a musing conversation, not so much an accusation. "He was," to Keysi, as if asserting her position, and if he notes that flash of anger, it doesn't display on on the harper's face. "What was your relationship with the... with R'hin?" "Did he?" That's barely above a whisper from Jo on M'kris having everything. She lets the question linger between them, staring at Quint for a long moment before she finally looks away. Her voice leaves her and she doesn't look to be speaking again soon as Keysi gets questioned. "He's my wingleader." Keysi answers, then adds quieter, "Was." She raises her hands and rubs her face slowly, roughly, her eyes more red when she's through. "A mentor, I guess. He meant a lot to a lot of people." The words are tired, and she shrugs weakly with it, fishing for the right words but not having the effort to make for it. With something that seems like a genuine laugh, barely suppressed, Quint shakes his head at the whispered response from Jo. "Farbeit for me to guess at what passes through the mind of a Weyrleader." Even if, that's exactly what he's trying to do. Whatever mirth is displayed, it's brief, and it fades soon after. When Jo falls silent, he studies her -- or more accurately, he's studying the blood on her clothes, on her hands, anywhere visible -- with a neutral expression. He's still listening, though, since he's quick to respond to Keysi: "Then let us hope his death is not falsely played, whatever the story may be. The truth means a lot to a lot of people, too." He's up on his feet now, pacing towards that serving table, splashing water into the glass and taking his time, taking a drink, while he watches the pair of them over the glass. "He talked 'bout ya," Jo quietly notes to Keysi when she reveals that R'hin was her wingleader. "Quite a bit. He...." But Quint is studying her and she turns red-rimmed eyes on him. On his words to Keysi, there's a bare nod in agreement as she's back to staring ahead. Keysi simply adds nothing to the hope of the harper. No return genuine formality. But Jo's words spur something and she looks over at her, studying her for the first time more fully since they'd been moved. "He did?" It doesn't seek an answer, but the sorrow in it is pronounced, redoubled by that knowledge. And then she too is silent again, drawing her arms to herself to wrap around her middle tightly. Quint's quiet during the brief exchange between the two. He finishes drinking, sets his glass down. "In a moment, I'll ask you to sign declarations that what you've told me here is the truth." He pauses, a moment, as if a thought has just occurred to him. "I have heard it tell that dragons always tell the truth. Have you found that to be the case?" The harper shakes his head, after a beat, before his gaze settles somewhere between the two riders. "Is there anything more you wish to say, on the record? If not--" he gestures to the apprentice, "Please sign your statements." When it elicits a reaction, Jo nods a few times. "He did," she says, something making the tears start up again. "He did." Her eyes look up and away in an attempt to stay those tears, refocusing on Quint once he starts to talk. On dragons, there's a considerable nod before she answers, "I've said all I could. I hope he finds justice. He deserves that." She straightens up to sign. Keysi can't watch Jo, Jo, so distraught, turning her head away. Her words, which apparently overshadow everything currently going on and anything Quint is asking of them, release tears down her already stained cheeks. Although what was said was likely important, she stands after Jo does, propelled by the motion more than anything. But she must have understood Quint, since she does eventually nod. A swallow, a clearing of her throat later, she reaches to sign where indicated and very quietly adds, "I wish I knew more." "As do all," Quint replies, easily to Jo, nodding. His expression for Keysi is softer, perhaps, though wordless. The apprentice points them where to sign, and when both are done, he nods at Quint. The harper moves over, examining the papers, and nods. With a murmur, he bids the apprentice to leave and -- after a moment's briefly heated exchange, the guard that was standing inside the room, too. He waits until after the thunk of the door indicates it has latched properly, when he says, repeats: "Is there anything more you wish to say?" Off the record, is the implication. His gaze is neutral, non judgemental, patient, flicking between the pair. Once signed, Jo barely nods to the apprentice before she spies Keysi's face. Approaching Quint now, his repeated question gets a brief, "Ya know what I know," looking into his eyes with her glassy own. "Now let us grieve. If we can see him again, one more time, I'd like that." Near whisper, her gaze pleading as she prepares to depart. "No." Keysi's response is more whispered than spoken, and once the document is done, she returns her arms to folded tightly across her chest. And when Jo re-visits that request, she allows her attention to stray to Quint one more time in order to add her own "Please." If Quint was expecting aught else but the response he gets, it doesn't show. He gives a nod, first to Jo, then to Keysi. "You have my sincere condolences. Please wait here. I'll speak with the Lord, and, on his approval, I'll have you released." He hesitates a moment as he cracks the door, glancing back at Keysi, then to Jo, "I'll ask about your request." And then he's gone, through the door, leaving them a moment's peace. |
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