[Rasmus/Ravi] - CSI:Tyrol continues
Who:
Rasmus
Ravindra
When: Day after Sofie's incident.
Where: The station
Rating & Warnings: PG, dead rabbits, angry minotaurs.
Guards discussin' murders!
The night before had been rough, to say the least. He'd been buzzed, at the very least, when he and Cosimo had gone to get Sofie Naran. It'd been late when they returned, and he'd gotten back even later after having drunk more. It had been necessary to make him feel at least a little better. He loved women, but gods, did they ever complicate things.
It made for another bleary morning when he received his summons from Ravindra. He rubbed his head, shaved, changed, tried to tame his hair, suited up in his uniform and headed out. He had his assumptions about what it was about, but decided not to think too much on it until he had been more fully briefed. He stepped into the station a short time later, his hair already a mess again from his swiping his hand through it so many times in an effort to wake up. When he saw Ravindra he had to stifleo a yawn when he sat down, blinking at him blearily.
"Even during Fest," he said unhappily. "Well. What have we today, Sergeant?"
"Even during the Fest, Rasmus," Ravi answered. Crime did not wait, Rasmus!! When Ras walked in, he was seated at the station desk, poring over the compiled notes on the case, but he laid the papers down and pushed himself to his feet once Ras entered.
They were the only two there at the moment, the others either off duty or part of the skeleton crew on patrol during the Fest. That was why he felt comfortable speaking openly with Ras. "Do not tell anybody this," he said, opening up the canvas bag that sat at the edge of the desk. Inside was the rabbit Alex had given him, which he pulled out to lay on the desk, the bite marks on its neck in plain view. "But I am friends with a vampire."
He grunted in response. There were a few chairs by the desk. The one Rasmus sat in was larger than the rest, a different kind of chair and more comfortable, but the only one that would accomodate his size as well. He put his feet up on the desk, hands stuffed in his pockets. He watched Ravi get up and wander away from the desk. What did the man think of last night? Well, it wasn't his business to ask anymore. It had probably been a long day for him as well.
He turned his head as Ravindra walked beyond his scope of vision. He blinked at the sight of the rabbit and frowned, feet coming off the desk as he leaned over. When Ravi spoke, his heavy brow lifted in surprise. "What- a what?" Oh, he knew what the man had meant. Vampires were part of the oldest mythologies. But he knew of none here in Tyrol. "How?" he asked, brow creasing in a frown. He looked back to the rabbit, drawing it over to him. Yes, those were the telltale marks.
"An old friend," Ravi said, "long dead, but recently raised. He did not kill Myron, but he is willing to help with the case in secret." And that was all the information Ras was getting about Alex. He didn't need to know any more than that.
Ravi reclaimed his chair, shuffling the papers of the case file into a neat stack. After he set them down, he leaned back in the chair and sighed, silent for a moment before speaking again. "I think that there is something very wrong about this case, Rasmus. I suspect Myron was not really killed by an Other at all."
Rasmus' brow lifted again at the explanation. An old friend, recently raised. Disturbing. He was quite surprised to see Ravi still alive, in total honesty. He did not consider vampires to be much filled with grace, even for old friends.
The marks did not match up with the body. That much was obvious. It was a little strange to him to be holding such a thing, but he was dutiful in his examination, shaking his head when he came to the conclusion Ravi would have wanted him to anyway. It was not a vampire as they knew it.
He let the silence pass, putting the body of the animal down again gently. Well, at least it could be used in another way. Perhaps hand it off to be skinned. At Ravi's words, however, his brow came down, heavy and dark. "What?" he asked. He had considered the possibility, of course. But to hear it aloud as valid...
"Repeat yourself."
"I suspect Myron was not really killed by an Other," he repeated. It was an idea he'd been turning over in his head since before his conversation with the Magus, but this was the first time he'd said it aloud to another member of the investigation. How many of them suspected the same thing?
He tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair, letting his eyes drift down to the dead rabbit. He'd done a cursory comparison earlier and it seemed unlikely that Myron's wounds had been made through a similar sort of bite. A more thorough examination was in order, of course, but for now he was fairly sure Myron's wounds hadn't been made by a vampire. "There was too much spectacle involved in this murder. It was definitely calculated. Whoever did it is hoping to make a statement."
Rasmus stared at him, as though making sure he'd said what he'd said, even the second time around. He breathed in and out harshly through his nose, nostrils flaring, much as a bull's would. He reached up to rub his chin, still smooth so early in the morning.
"You realize what you are saying, Ravindra," he said, his voice a dark rumble. There was anger lurking in them. The title of his superior was dropped. It was not as a guard he spoke to Ravi now, but as Rasmus. As an Other. "There are those that would raise false speculation." He breathed out again.
His eyes snapped up, followed a second later by his head, and his fingers froze above the arm of the chair. Rasmus was obviously not happy, but Ravi felt like he was missing something. He knew what he was saying: that Myron was probably killed by a human trying to frame an Other for it, in the effort to rouse conflict in the city and push somebody into making a decision about Others--
Oh. Ohhh.
He shifted in the chair, letting his gaze fall again, not quite sure what to say. Somebody was trying to start a manhunt. If that happened, it was the people like Rasmus who would be in the most danger. The Others not protected by the Hour.
"A bad situation," was all he could find to say.
Rasmus stared at him, waiting for him to come to the conclusion. He stood abruptly, needing the space the small room barely afforded to pace it, to force some of the energy out of him. "Ridiculous," he muttered, and then continued in Greek, things which sounded suspiciously like curses.
Passing by the desk he stopped, a fist hitting the table counter hard. The rabbit, the papers, all jumped a few inches. "It. Is. Absurd!" he shouted, then went back to pacing, as though he had never stopped, nostrils flaring with the force with which he breathed in and out. He stopped again a moment later. "Who. Who would do it," he asked. Demanded, really.
He waited, watching Ras out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't that Rasmus's anger made him uncomfortable, it was the fact that he had no idea what the proper expected response to it was.
The fist on the desk made Ravi jump too, staring up at Ras and following with his gaze as the giant continued pacing the room. When Rasmus finally addressed him, there was a second's delay and then a slow, slight shrug. "If I knew, we would be done with this case already."
He stared at Ravi again for a moment, then looked away. "No... no, of course not," he muttered, sliding his hands off of the desk. He seemed at a loss as to what to do for a moment, then rubbed at his chin again. "We would be... ha!"
Finally he put his hands into his pockets again and sat down once more. "...so. There are several that are quite open about their dislike of the Hour. There is the Citadel, but I do not think any of them would be interested in ordering death in such an underhanded fashion. Not so far as I can see. Though they did not much like Lord Myron's ways, either. However, the same could be said of some of the nobility as well." He rubbed his face with his hand. It was too early. His mind was still foggy. "Myron was expendable. Perhaps whoever it was saw the twofold benefit of such a scheme- kill off an embarrassment to the nobility, or whatever they thought he represented, and strike a blow at the Hour. Or Others. The motives are too fluid to pin down."
He watched and waited patiently for Ras to settle down and then for him to finish pondering aloud. Personally, Ravi thought there were probably nobles involved. This was the sort of underhanded political tactic they liked to pull, and whoever had done this probably had money--faking a death to look like an Other had committed it couldn't be cheap. But, of course, he couldn't say that with certainty and didn't want to exclude other potential subjects by telling his subordinates his pet theories.
"There is too much uncertain," he said, his eyes on the rabbit instead of Ras. "For now, what I want to know is how. How would somebody leave a victim like this? When we know that it is possible, we can pursue it farther." A pause while he thought. "And I think perhaps we should figure out which nobles have publicly supported the Citadel, and which the Golden Hour."
Ras remained silent, nodding at appropriate intervals, but forcing himself, for once, to keep from interjecting. When Ravi was done, he spoke again. "Such a thing... such a thing could be conceived of only by the Hour... and yet Myron was an ally, at best. An amusement, at worst. And the Citadel may hate... hate Others," he said, stumbling over the words. "But they do not often cause violence because of their hatred. Even if it was," he muttered, "they would require some collaboration with the Hour."
No, he was too restless now to sit again. He paced, but slowly, as though the motion helped him to think. "Yes. We will get that list together. I would be interested to see who is where."
"I do not think either the Citadel or the Hour was directly involved." As much as they were constantly at one another's throats, the leaders of both knew better than to stage something like this. Or they should, at least. The Hour had no reason to direct people's anger at them, and the Citadel couldn't risk the truth of it being a ploy coming out, too much damage to their reputation.
"Get me the list. Assign whoever you like to the task. Also, a list of people confirmed to be at the masque. I do not think it will tell us anything useful, but it could be nice to have." What else was there? Still needed to take a deeper look at the comparison in bites, but was there anything left to discuss first? He went silent, thinking about it. It was the sort of thoughtful look people learned to be expectant of, but in the end he didn't say anything else.
Rasmus continued to pace, but could think of nothing further himself. "No... no, if it was someone from either faction, I do not think it was sanctioned. I imagine Others have upset many things beyond the obvious." He stopped to chew on his thumbnail, thoughtful. How on earth did you go about finding out about these things? For his temper alone, he was certain it wouldn't be a good idea to involve himself too directly. It was hard to make it flare, but once it did...
"I will look through who is available, Sergeant," he said, reverting back to subordinate with a hint of shame in his averted look. "And see what can be gleaned from Myron's household. And the list of nobles," he added, muttering.
He gave a nod of approval. He didn't expect Rasmus to do the legwork himself, but to figure out who would be best for the task and to compile their work to hand over.
That was all he had, though. Certainly he could drag Rasmus in to help compare the bites right now, but honestly he didn't feel like doing that just yet. He'd just end up looking for a confirmation of his own bias; he needed to do it when he was feeling a little more open-minded about the case.
To just leave it at that after calling Rasmus in, though, felt inappropriate. He felt like he was supposed to have more. Maybe he would end up doing the comparison now, anyway. Well, maybe not. He brought his hands together in his lap, fingers interlocked, elbows still resting on the arms of the chair. "Do you have anything else for me?" he asked, prompting for clarifications or questions.
While he paced, he tried to think of something else, anything else. Hopefully nothing would slip his mind, but he really couldn't think of anything. He sighed, pinching his nose. There was something. It simply wasn't something he could ask about.
"No," he said finally. "It will take some time to get things organized due to the Fest, however. I am certain there is a person or two who will be conveniently hard to find." Or three, or four. "Contact me through the ledgers if anything else occurs, Sergeant. I will start now, while it is early."
He wasn't going to mention Sofia. They'd gotten through the entire conversation without that coming up, and Ras was going to walk away without mentioning it and Ravi could safely pretend it had never happened. Thank god. All the gods. All of them. Even the ones he didn't believe in.
He let out a breath, not quite a sigh, and nodded again while motioning Rasmus off. "I will, yes. Go, then." That was that. He'd go, and last night would not be spoken of, and everything would proceed as normal. Good.
Rasmus
Ravindra
When: Day after Sofie's incident.
Where: The station
Rating & Warnings: PG, dead rabbits, angry minotaurs.
Guards discussin' murders!
The night before had been rough, to say the least. He'd been buzzed, at the very least, when he and Cosimo had gone to get Sofie Naran. It'd been late when they returned, and he'd gotten back even later after having drunk more. It had been necessary to make him feel at least a little better. He loved women, but gods, did they ever complicate things.
It made for another bleary morning when he received his summons from Ravindra. He rubbed his head, shaved, changed, tried to tame his hair, suited up in his uniform and headed out. He had his assumptions about what it was about, but decided not to think too much on it until he had been more fully briefed. He stepped into the station a short time later, his hair already a mess again from his swiping his hand through it so many times in an effort to wake up. When he saw Ravindra he had to stifleo a yawn when he sat down, blinking at him blearily.
"Even during Fest," he said unhappily. "Well. What have we today, Sergeant?"
"Even during the Fest, Rasmus," Ravi answered. Crime did not wait, Rasmus!! When Ras walked in, he was seated at the station desk, poring over the compiled notes on the case, but he laid the papers down and pushed himself to his feet once Ras entered.
They were the only two there at the moment, the others either off duty or part of the skeleton crew on patrol during the Fest. That was why he felt comfortable speaking openly with Ras. "Do not tell anybody this," he said, opening up the canvas bag that sat at the edge of the desk. Inside was the rabbit Alex had given him, which he pulled out to lay on the desk, the bite marks on its neck in plain view. "But I am friends with a vampire."
He grunted in response. There were a few chairs by the desk. The one Rasmus sat in was larger than the rest, a different kind of chair and more comfortable, but the only one that would accomodate his size as well. He put his feet up on the desk, hands stuffed in his pockets. He watched Ravi get up and wander away from the desk. What did the man think of last night? Well, it wasn't his business to ask anymore. It had probably been a long day for him as well.
He turned his head as Ravindra walked beyond his scope of vision. He blinked at the sight of the rabbit and frowned, feet coming off the desk as he leaned over. When Ravi spoke, his heavy brow lifted in surprise. "What- a what?" Oh, he knew what the man had meant. Vampires were part of the oldest mythologies. But he knew of none here in Tyrol. "How?" he asked, brow creasing in a frown. He looked back to the rabbit, drawing it over to him. Yes, those were the telltale marks.
"An old friend," Ravi said, "long dead, but recently raised. He did not kill Myron, but he is willing to help with the case in secret." And that was all the information Ras was getting about Alex. He didn't need to know any more than that.
Ravi reclaimed his chair, shuffling the papers of the case file into a neat stack. After he set them down, he leaned back in the chair and sighed, silent for a moment before speaking again. "I think that there is something very wrong about this case, Rasmus. I suspect Myron was not really killed by an Other at all."
Rasmus' brow lifted again at the explanation. An old friend, recently raised. Disturbing. He was quite surprised to see Ravi still alive, in total honesty. He did not consider vampires to be much filled with grace, even for old friends.
The marks did not match up with the body. That much was obvious. It was a little strange to him to be holding such a thing, but he was dutiful in his examination, shaking his head when he came to the conclusion Ravi would have wanted him to anyway. It was not a vampire as they knew it.
He let the silence pass, putting the body of the animal down again gently. Well, at least it could be used in another way. Perhaps hand it off to be skinned. At Ravi's words, however, his brow came down, heavy and dark. "What?" he asked. He had considered the possibility, of course. But to hear it aloud as valid...
"Repeat yourself."
"I suspect Myron was not really killed by an Other," he repeated. It was an idea he'd been turning over in his head since before his conversation with the Magus, but this was the first time he'd said it aloud to another member of the investigation. How many of them suspected the same thing?
He tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair, letting his eyes drift down to the dead rabbit. He'd done a cursory comparison earlier and it seemed unlikely that Myron's wounds had been made through a similar sort of bite. A more thorough examination was in order, of course, but for now he was fairly sure Myron's wounds hadn't been made by a vampire. "There was too much spectacle involved in this murder. It was definitely calculated. Whoever did it is hoping to make a statement."
Rasmus stared at him, as though making sure he'd said what he'd said, even the second time around. He breathed in and out harshly through his nose, nostrils flaring, much as a bull's would. He reached up to rub his chin, still smooth so early in the morning.
"You realize what you are saying, Ravindra," he said, his voice a dark rumble. There was anger lurking in them. The title of his superior was dropped. It was not as a guard he spoke to Ravi now, but as Rasmus. As an Other. "There are those that would raise false speculation." He breathed out again.
His eyes snapped up, followed a second later by his head, and his fingers froze above the arm of the chair. Rasmus was obviously not happy, but Ravi felt like he was missing something. He knew what he was saying: that Myron was probably killed by a human trying to frame an Other for it, in the effort to rouse conflict in the city and push somebody into making a decision about Others--
Oh. Ohhh.
He shifted in the chair, letting his gaze fall again, not quite sure what to say. Somebody was trying to start a manhunt. If that happened, it was the people like Rasmus who would be in the most danger. The Others not protected by the Hour.
"A bad situation," was all he could find to say.
Rasmus stared at him, waiting for him to come to the conclusion. He stood abruptly, needing the space the small room barely afforded to pace it, to force some of the energy out of him. "Ridiculous," he muttered, and then continued in Greek, things which sounded suspiciously like curses.
Passing by the desk he stopped, a fist hitting the table counter hard. The rabbit, the papers, all jumped a few inches. "It. Is. Absurd!" he shouted, then went back to pacing, as though he had never stopped, nostrils flaring with the force with which he breathed in and out. He stopped again a moment later. "Who. Who would do it," he asked. Demanded, really.
He waited, watching Ras out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't that Rasmus's anger made him uncomfortable, it was the fact that he had no idea what the proper expected response to it was.
The fist on the desk made Ravi jump too, staring up at Ras and following with his gaze as the giant continued pacing the room. When Rasmus finally addressed him, there was a second's delay and then a slow, slight shrug. "If I knew, we would be done with this case already."
He stared at Ravi again for a moment, then looked away. "No... no, of course not," he muttered, sliding his hands off of the desk. He seemed at a loss as to what to do for a moment, then rubbed at his chin again. "We would be... ha!"
Finally he put his hands into his pockets again and sat down once more. "...so. There are several that are quite open about their dislike of the Hour. There is the Citadel, but I do not think any of them would be interested in ordering death in such an underhanded fashion. Not so far as I can see. Though they did not much like Lord Myron's ways, either. However, the same could be said of some of the nobility as well." He rubbed his face with his hand. It was too early. His mind was still foggy. "Myron was expendable. Perhaps whoever it was saw the twofold benefit of such a scheme- kill off an embarrassment to the nobility, or whatever they thought he represented, and strike a blow at the Hour. Or Others. The motives are too fluid to pin down."
He watched and waited patiently for Ras to settle down and then for him to finish pondering aloud. Personally, Ravi thought there were probably nobles involved. This was the sort of underhanded political tactic they liked to pull, and whoever had done this probably had money--faking a death to look like an Other had committed it couldn't be cheap. But, of course, he couldn't say that with certainty and didn't want to exclude other potential subjects by telling his subordinates his pet theories.
"There is too much uncertain," he said, his eyes on the rabbit instead of Ras. "For now, what I want to know is how. How would somebody leave a victim like this? When we know that it is possible, we can pursue it farther." A pause while he thought. "And I think perhaps we should figure out which nobles have publicly supported the Citadel, and which the Golden Hour."
Ras remained silent, nodding at appropriate intervals, but forcing himself, for once, to keep from interjecting. When Ravi was done, he spoke again. "Such a thing... such a thing could be conceived of only by the Hour... and yet Myron was an ally, at best. An amusement, at worst. And the Citadel may hate... hate Others," he said, stumbling over the words. "But they do not often cause violence because of their hatred. Even if it was," he muttered, "they would require some collaboration with the Hour."
No, he was too restless now to sit again. He paced, but slowly, as though the motion helped him to think. "Yes. We will get that list together. I would be interested to see who is where."
"I do not think either the Citadel or the Hour was directly involved." As much as they were constantly at one another's throats, the leaders of both knew better than to stage something like this. Or they should, at least. The Hour had no reason to direct people's anger at them, and the Citadel couldn't risk the truth of it being a ploy coming out, too much damage to their reputation.
"Get me the list. Assign whoever you like to the task. Also, a list of people confirmed to be at the masque. I do not think it will tell us anything useful, but it could be nice to have." What else was there? Still needed to take a deeper look at the comparison in bites, but was there anything left to discuss first? He went silent, thinking about it. It was the sort of thoughtful look people learned to be expectant of, but in the end he didn't say anything else.
Rasmus continued to pace, but could think of nothing further himself. "No... no, if it was someone from either faction, I do not think it was sanctioned. I imagine Others have upset many things beyond the obvious." He stopped to chew on his thumbnail, thoughtful. How on earth did you go about finding out about these things? For his temper alone, he was certain it wouldn't be a good idea to involve himself too directly. It was hard to make it flare, but once it did...
"I will look through who is available, Sergeant," he said, reverting back to subordinate with a hint of shame in his averted look. "And see what can be gleaned from Myron's household. And the list of nobles," he added, muttering.
He gave a nod of approval. He didn't expect Rasmus to do the legwork himself, but to figure out who would be best for the task and to compile their work to hand over.
That was all he had, though. Certainly he could drag Rasmus in to help compare the bites right now, but honestly he didn't feel like doing that just yet. He'd just end up looking for a confirmation of his own bias; he needed to do it when he was feeling a little more open-minded about the case.
To just leave it at that after calling Rasmus in, though, felt inappropriate. He felt like he was supposed to have more. Maybe he would end up doing the comparison now, anyway. Well, maybe not. He brought his hands together in his lap, fingers interlocked, elbows still resting on the arms of the chair. "Do you have anything else for me?" he asked, prompting for clarifications or questions.
While he paced, he tried to think of something else, anything else. Hopefully nothing would slip his mind, but he really couldn't think of anything. He sighed, pinching his nose. There was something. It simply wasn't something he could ask about.
"No," he said finally. "It will take some time to get things organized due to the Fest, however. I am certain there is a person or two who will be conveniently hard to find." Or three, or four. "Contact me through the ledgers if anything else occurs, Sergeant. I will start now, while it is early."
He wasn't going to mention Sofia. They'd gotten through the entire conversation without that coming up, and Ras was going to walk away without mentioning it and Ravi could safely pretend it had never happened. Thank god. All the gods. All of them. Even the ones he didn't believe in.
He let out a breath, not quite a sigh, and nodded again while motioning Rasmus off. "I will, yes. Go, then." That was that. He'd go, and last night would not be spoken of, and everything would proceed as normal. Good.