Janus + Diana - advice
Who: Janus and Diana
When: after this
Where: stark residence
Ratings & Warnings: G/none.
The report was riddled with gaping holes in its logic. Janus raised a hand to his head, scratching idly. His eyebrows were almost comically furrowed as his eyes went through Damica's lines for the umpteenth time. Situated as he was on the sofa, surrounded by documents, posture awkward and legs twitching with frustration, the youngest Stark might have been a hulking troll, a split second away from ripping the sheaves of paper into pieces. Perhaps he should not have embarked on such a challenging case. But it had been so intriguing, so interesting - the obscurity, the murders, the family power struggle. The Bercators could have given the House of Atreus a run for its money.
Licking his lips, Janus set down the report and picked up a file labeled Quinn Bercator.
Diana had been a little surprised when Janus brought up the Bercator case. However, someone did need to look into it after Damica Bertrand left, and she would not crush any ambition or any will to do work from her son. She only hoped he didn't get in over his head, and it was with this worry that she approached him.
Her eyebrow quirked slightly at the sight he made on the sofa before she smoothed her features back into neutral. "Janus," she said, "are you having any difficulties?"
Janus looked up, a 'Mother' on his tongue before he realized he was working. "Lieutenant."
He set Quinn's file down on his lap, trying his utmost to quell a sheepish smile. To lie, or not to lie? Ah, but his mother would see through artifice, anyway. There was no point in dissembling. "Some. The Bercators do not seem willing to flinch from their ambiguity."
"Are you surprised by that?" she asked. "It is likely someone in their family." Even if they didn't have much evidence to back that up yet.
"Have you arranged to meet any of them yet?" It was good that Janus didn't rise to anger often, at least openly, but she wondered if the Bercators wouldn't try to lead him astray. As much as she loved him, she could see that he could be too trusting and too romantic.
"I am not," he conceded. "But it is troublesome all the same." He paused, considering his mother's words. Such a tragedy, this family was. "I do believe so. One must wonder at the motivation it takes to kill one's kin."
Janus nodded. "They were not very pleased. Defensive, even. I..." He did not want to seem incompetent in front of his mother, but he realized he would need her advice. "I am not sure how to best tackle the issue. What questions to ask - questions that would be both unassuming and effective."
Diana sat down on the other end of the sofa. "You'd do well to read over those reports like you already are and make sure you don't repeat too many questions they've already answered in some capacity."
Like most nobility, they knew how to play a game with words. "Think of it like a puzzle, if it helps. Ask about hobbies or interests or friends, if they know of any odd visitors. You could ask to question some servants, too." Servants usually saw quite a bit. "Or approach servants yourself." They were employed by nobles, yes, but nobles did not own them. "Look for any servants who seem to be unhappy working there, if you get the chance."
Janus nodded. Puzzles, odd visitors, hobbies, friends. There were so many threads to pick apart. He knew he would have to tread as carefully as possible, lest he tangle himself up or trip. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I will do my uttermost to be discreet."
Janus wondered what an investigator might find if he looked into the servants in the Stark house. He shook his head of such thoughts. Speculation was not necessary. "Mother," he began, momentarily moving away from work. "Will you be attending Lady Sabreme's masque?"
"I find it best to be matter-of-fact, but you may find your own questioning style." As long as he didn't try tocome off cocky and sly or self-important and clever, it should be fine.
Her lips twitched in a small wry smile. There was no love lost between her and the Sabremes, but Morellus was close to the Lady Sabreme. "I'll drop by for a polite amount of time," she said. "Are you planning to attend?"
Janus wondered if he even had it in him to be matter-of-fact. He was far too prolix, digressive. Perhaps he would find a compromise. And hopefully that would be soon enough for the interrogations.
Wincing, he brought his focus back to the far more benign topic of masques. "I am not certain. I have never fared too well in such circumstances. However, it would be nice to accompany a friend." At the last sentence, he colored.
She raised her eyebrows slightly. "When you say friend, are you talking about a lady friend?"
Standing up, Diana gave Janus an expectant look. "I can count on you to be discreet, can't I?" What did she do to have both her sons be so foolish when it came to the fairer sex? She would never know.
"Possibly," he said, some hesitation obvious in his expression and tone.
With a sheepish smile, Janus continued, "I do not think discretion will be much of an issue with me. I hardly meet with as much success as to merit the need for it."
If Janus thought it was a matter of success that needed discretion, perhaps Diana should be glad for it for now.
"You would be surprised," she said, a hint of dryness in her tone. "I have faith in you, however. Don't indulge too much and don't work too much, all right?" Semi-hypocritical words coming from her, but she meant them.
Janus met her gaze steadily, as if aware of the hypocritical nature of her advice. Were he so, he made no mention of it. "Of course, mother."
When: after this
Where: stark residence
Ratings & Warnings: G/none.
The report was riddled with gaping holes in its logic. Janus raised a hand to his head, scratching idly. His eyebrows were almost comically furrowed as his eyes went through Damica's lines for the umpteenth time. Situated as he was on the sofa, surrounded by documents, posture awkward and legs twitching with frustration, the youngest Stark might have been a hulking troll, a split second away from ripping the sheaves of paper into pieces. Perhaps he should not have embarked on such a challenging case. But it had been so intriguing, so interesting - the obscurity, the murders, the family power struggle. The Bercators could have given the House of Atreus a run for its money.
Licking his lips, Janus set down the report and picked up a file labeled Quinn Bercator.
Diana had been a little surprised when Janus brought up the Bercator case. However, someone did need to look into it after Damica Bertrand left, and she would not crush any ambition or any will to do work from her son. She only hoped he didn't get in over his head, and it was with this worry that she approached him.
Her eyebrow quirked slightly at the sight he made on the sofa before she smoothed her features back into neutral. "Janus," she said, "are you having any difficulties?"
Janus looked up, a 'Mother' on his tongue before he realized he was working. "Lieutenant."
He set Quinn's file down on his lap, trying his utmost to quell a sheepish smile. To lie, or not to lie? Ah, but his mother would see through artifice, anyway. There was no point in dissembling. "Some. The Bercators do not seem willing to flinch from their ambiguity."
"Are you surprised by that?" she asked. "It is likely someone in their family." Even if they didn't have much evidence to back that up yet.
"Have you arranged to meet any of them yet?" It was good that Janus didn't rise to anger often, at least openly, but she wondered if the Bercators wouldn't try to lead him astray. As much as she loved him, she could see that he could be too trusting and too romantic.
"I am not," he conceded. "But it is troublesome all the same." He paused, considering his mother's words. Such a tragedy, this family was. "I do believe so. One must wonder at the motivation it takes to kill one's kin."
Janus nodded. "They were not very pleased. Defensive, even. I..." He did not want to seem incompetent in front of his mother, but he realized he would need her advice. "I am not sure how to best tackle the issue. What questions to ask - questions that would be both unassuming and effective."
Diana sat down on the other end of the sofa. "You'd do well to read over those reports like you already are and make sure you don't repeat too many questions they've already answered in some capacity."
Like most nobility, they knew how to play a game with words. "Think of it like a puzzle, if it helps. Ask about hobbies or interests or friends, if they know of any odd visitors. You could ask to question some servants, too." Servants usually saw quite a bit. "Or approach servants yourself." They were employed by nobles, yes, but nobles did not own them. "Look for any servants who seem to be unhappy working there, if you get the chance."
Janus nodded. Puzzles, odd visitors, hobbies, friends. There were so many threads to pick apart. He knew he would have to tread as carefully as possible, lest he tangle himself up or trip. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I will do my uttermost to be discreet."
Janus wondered what an investigator might find if he looked into the servants in the Stark house. He shook his head of such thoughts. Speculation was not necessary. "Mother," he began, momentarily moving away from work. "Will you be attending Lady Sabreme's masque?"
"I find it best to be matter-of-fact, but you may find your own questioning style." As long as he didn't try tocome off cocky and sly or self-important and clever, it should be fine.
Her lips twitched in a small wry smile. There was no love lost between her and the Sabremes, but Morellus was close to the Lady Sabreme. "I'll drop by for a polite amount of time," she said. "Are you planning to attend?"
Janus wondered if he even had it in him to be matter-of-fact. He was far too prolix, digressive. Perhaps he would find a compromise. And hopefully that would be soon enough for the interrogations.
Wincing, he brought his focus back to the far more benign topic of masques. "I am not certain. I have never fared too well in such circumstances. However, it would be nice to accompany a friend." At the last sentence, he colored.
She raised her eyebrows slightly. "When you say friend, are you talking about a lady friend?"
Standing up, Diana gave Janus an expectant look. "I can count on you to be discreet, can't I?" What did she do to have both her sons be so foolish when it came to the fairer sex? She would never know.
"Possibly," he said, some hesitation obvious in his expression and tone.
With a sheepish smile, Janus continued, "I do not think discretion will be much of an issue with me. I hardly meet with as much success as to merit the need for it."
If Janus thought it was a matter of success that needed discretion, perhaps Diana should be glad for it for now.
"You would be surprised," she said, a hint of dryness in her tone. "I have faith in you, however. Don't indulge too much and don't work too much, all right?" Semi-hypocritical words coming from her, but she meant them.
Janus met her gaze steadily, as if aware of the hypocritical nature of her advice. Were he so, he made no mention of it. "Of course, mother."