milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The Steward of Gondor is in the bar tonight, doing what one generally does in a bar:

Drink.

He seems... curiously blank tonight. Neither in a good mood or a bad. Simply... somewhat detatched. Deep in thought. Daydreamy.

Security badge is, as usual, clipped to his belt and in plain view.

Lost in thought he may be, but he always welcomes company.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Another old acquaintence Faramir's been meaning to look up.

He hears the clatter, blinks off his distraction, and reaches to pick up her slide for her.

"Sara," he says with customary gentility and a smile. "Good evening."

"Hmmm? Oh, hello Faramir. Thank you," she says when he hands the slide to her.

He watches a moment, hands that seem somehow more... fidgety... than he knew them to be.

"Are you well, Sara?" he asks.

"Not really, no," she admits in a somewhat wry tone, peering through the eyepiece once again. "I thought I would distract myself by recataloguing my slides, but that doesn't seem to be working very well. And yourself?"

"I am as well as could be hoped for," Faramir says, slow and soft as he eases himself into a stool near her. "What is wrong, Sara? Anything I might help with?"

She shakes her head. "It's nothing that can really be helped. A friend of mine was badly injured in the course of our work. It's uncertain whether or not he will survive." A slight, humorless laugh. "Bar saw fit to keep me Bound at this time. It's...frustrating, under the circumstances."

Faramir nods in sympathy. "I can see how that would be." He rests a hand lightly upon hers. "Let me buy you a drink, Sara. Sit, talk with me a while. Then you can get back to your work. But I do not like to see a friend of mine exhaust herself for the sake of forgetfulness."

She smiles a bit. "I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee."

Faramir nods, and fetches a cup of coffee for her from Bar.

"Here. Your friend... has he been to the bar?"

She nods. "Twice that I know of. His name is Jim Brass. He's the homicide detective my team works with the most in Las Vegas. A good man."

"The name I do not know," he says with a note of sincere regret: for he is of the belief that all good people are worth knowing, and if a friend of his says a man is good, he believes it. "But I trust the medical practices of your world are of the highest standard. I shall offer my hopes to him."

"Thank you," she says sincerely. "He's very much a fighter and I believe he'll pull through. I just wish I could be there with the rest of my team, rather than kept here. But Bar has her reasons, whatever they might be."

"In matters of non-malicious magics -- and Bar is many things, but malicious is not one -- it is best to trust to what the Fates have for us, and do what we can in the meantime. However difficult it may seem." He smiles. "You seem to be making active use of yourself, certainly. What are you looking at through that instrument now?"

"It's a microscopic form of life called a paramecium. If you'd like to look at it, you're more than welcome to." She moves out of the way.

[ooc: Ahh, memories of AP Biology coloring sheets for homework.... eight trillion tiny dots....]

Faramor leans over the eye-piece almost gleefully. Her science fascinates him as much as do the histories of his world: it is a new kind of knowing, spellbinding. When he backs away, his eyes are wide.

"Is that alive?"

[ooc: Ah yes. Icestrain, criticisms from underpaid TAs that could never spell the words correctly. Those were the days. :D]

"That particular specimen? No, I'm afraid not. But there are others of it's kind living all around."

"Amazing. Amazing!" the prince breathes. "Where? To what purpose do you study this one?" Not that knowledge needs a purpose, but you know... it's all eventually good for SOMETHING.

[Mun disclaimer: The following explanation has been pulled completely from nowhere and should not be taken as actual science. ;)]

"Well, parameciums are most often found in fresh water. Species and variations will be found depending on the individual aspects of the different kinds of fresh water. By knowing the species, I would be able to know whether a body found near a lake had actually been in the lake prior to death, or other things like that."

[ooc: Mun has taken four -- FOUR -- years of biology in high school and went on to be an art student. Scientific explanations may be liberally falsified for the amusement of all at any rate. :D ]

"And was it?" Faramir asks of the specimine in question. "In the lake?" Because clearly this is important.

"A river, actually, located a short distance from the lake in question. And the individual had been dunked in the river, then dropped by the lake, for reasons we were never able to determine."

Blink blink.

Bliiiiink.

"A river is running water. Perhaps there was something on or in him that the murderer wished to see washed away. Perhaps it was a purely ceremonial gesture -- a crime of personal significance, revenge."

"Excellent theories," she says with a pleased grin. Most police cadets wouldn't think that far ahead. "As far as we could determine, based on all the evidence at hand, the death of the individual was accidental, and the perpetrator feared he would be blamed, and so tried to cover it up. If he'd reported what had truly happened, he would have faced no consequences. People can be idiots."

"Well that makes no sense," Faramir says. "An accident is not a thing one needs to hide; even should it result in a man's death, such a thing is not a crime, though one does take some responsibility for such things. But why move him from a river to a lake?"

"Like I said, we never got an explanation for that. Sometimes we can't answer all questions that are raised."

Faramir shrugs the matter off.

"Humanity," he muses, "is a puzzle beyond all others. More fascinating soul by soul."