milliways_bar | (no subject)

Alanna has been in and out of the bar more than usual the last few days, armed with books and better warding spells from her communications with Numair. The latest spell has her better pleased than its predecessors, and she's not scowling quite as much this time when she returns from checking on the crime scene. She looks around and takes a seat at Bar, who promptly offers up a steaming cup of coffee and several notes.

She finishes off the coffee as she reads, apparently unconcerned by its temperature. Immediately she asks for pen and paper in order to write the following quick replies:

Dr. Cullen:

Thank you for your offer. Your services would be greatly appreciated, as we need a doctor to examine the remains. Currently the body (what's left of it) and crime scene are protected by a number of spells, but I can lower them for you to have a look. I'm easy to spot -- short, violet eyes, red hair. I'll keep watch for you, but in the meantime, feel free to approach anyone with a security badge about this matter.

Regards,
Sir Alanna

Tom,

Thank you. Would you be able to check the area for signs of magic? I have my own tests for such things, but the Goddess only knows if I'd be able to detect all magic from all worlds. I would appreciate it more than I can say. We should meet, so I can lower the spells currently protecting the scene from outside influence, and so you can speak freely about the possible suspect.

Is Ingress away, I hope?

Sincerely,
Alanna

Mr. Smith,

Thank you for your note and offer of assistance. I -- and any member of security -- would be interested to speak with you about your 'unique gift' and any ideas you might have on how to proceed. This is obviously a case we would like to solve sooner rather than later. Security members have security badges displayed, and Bar would probably be willing to help identify us.

Regards,
Sir Alanna

That done, Alanna settles back with a second cup of coffee and a lot to think about. Most of it concerns West, but she's also starting to wonder where Raph and Abigail are; they were due at Pirate's Swoop well before now. Curious.

[OOC: ~~I have to run several errands, but I wanted to go ahead and get this up. I'll be back in 2-3 hours at the most. Feel free to tag, and I will reply ASAP. :)~~ Back!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Harth nods.

Friends, apparently, do this kind of thing.

"I musta been only a few minutes behind Mary,'cause I caught up with her pretty soon after I left, and she told me off for kicking shrubs."

He rolls his eyes. "Sore point, much?"

"She is very... intense about her plants."

It's hard, but Alanna manages not to make a face.

"Who else did you see outside?"

"Didn't talk to anyone else," Harth says. "There were a few people out that I saw, though. Some guy in the trees, climbing or something. Couldn't see, but he was human. A woman with dark hair."

"And some kinda horse. It was pink, though."

"How strange."

She tries to imagine a pink warhorse and almost laughs. That would be completely undignified.

Whereas names like 'Moonlight' and 'Darkmoon' are the height of ferocity.

"Did you see West?" she asks mildly.

Harth's forehead crinkles in what is, by sheer coincidence, honest confusion.

"Who?"

"West Rosen."

Alanna doubts the sincerity of his confusion. Harth can thank Thom for that; when it suited him, he was uncannily good at playing dumb.

"The murder victim."

Harth looks, if anything, intrigued. The crowd is shocked.

"Y'don't say?" he says. "Name doesn't ring a bell, though. Got a description?"

[OOC: Ahahahaha belated. I'm so sorry. >_>]

Headless.

Torn apart.

Eaten.

"An average boy. Dark hair, dark eyes, pleasant looking. A faintly mocking smile. Several people have said he seemed a bit full of himself."

[OOC: No worries!]

Hm.

That could apply to a few people that he saw that night alone. (Judging ages was never Harth's strong point - it's a thing when you're twenty-two but look permanently fourteen.)

"Sorry. Not narrowing it down much. There were quite a few about that night. Not all in one place, but I can tell when there's people nearby. There were a lot out. If you had a picture? Maybe?"

"I don't," Alanna answers, a touch ruefully. She should've asked Claire for one. "He used to date Claire Bennet, if that helps."

A shrug.

"Did you see or smell anything suspicious?"

Harths shakes his head silently at Claire's name. Another one he hasn't met.

"Yeah. There's always suspicious smells and... feelings out there. In here, too, but th'demon bunnies get everywhere. There was definitely a bunch out, but there's always some."

He shrugs. "No point of reference, see?"

"Hmmm."

Alanna eyes him, weighing her options.

"May I ask you a personal question?"

Curious, isn't it, how she looks as if she intends to do so anyway, no matter his answer.

Harth raises an amused eyebrow.

"If y'must."

No promises on whether he'll answer truthfully, or at all.

Absently, Alanna clears a bit of dirt out from under her thumb nail and glances around the room.

"When was the last time you fed on human blood?"

Beat.

"From the source, not a cup."

Harth looks at her and grins slowly.

"Y'know, you really can just ask if I killed the kid."

Bright purple eyes meet his in a flat, impassive look.

"Did you?"

Harth's grin widens.

"No," he says. "I didn't kill him."

Which given Harth's tendancy to lie, probably means absolutely nothing.

Probably.

Sometimes he reminds her so much of her brother that Alanna is torn between hugging him and demonstrating her fine right hook.

"That's something, then."

Possibly.

"If you think of anything you might want to share about that night, let me or your sister know," she tells him, mildly.

"Okay."

Assuming he wants to say anything, he will!

He rocks back on his chair, idly stretching one shoulder. "Guess there's a whole mess over this goin' on, huh?"

He is very helpful.

Alanna makes a noncommittal sound. "There's a whole mess going on about lots of things."

Suddenly, she looks tired.

Harth tilts his head, actually looking vaguely sympathetic.

Hey, he can fake it for someone he (for lack of a better word) likes.

"Yeah?"

Alanna finds his vague sympathy vaguely suspicious. Again, he shouldn't take it personally.

Her eyes narrow slightly as she nods.

"We are fighting a kind of war at home. Someone opened the Divine Realms and released all manner of nasty immortal creatures."

"Yeah, that can get messy," says Harth.

As someone who's tried it a time or two.

"It's certainly going to get messy for the people responsible," she promises.

Another wolfish smile.

She leans forward, watching him closely.

He smiles back.

"I just bet. You got a lotta magic people where you are, yeah? Sounds like an explosion waiting t'happen."

Not everyone uses their powers for evil, Harth.

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