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Post by Vanitypirate on Aug 6, 2018 1:27:58 GMT -8
Meriwether craned his neck in some attempt to meet the towering Doctor's lens-veiled eyes, though he found the gesture to be more comical than the respectfulness he'd intended.
There was little else that was comforting to look; the rats' eyes shining out from the shadow of his coat were not the eyes he wished to meet.
"I'm sorry to say, ser, but you're being arrested for questioning." His gaze lowered to a more forgiving angle to rest on Cross's chin-- where he predicted it would be behind his heavy garb and scarf.
It was discomforting to picture what was behind that garb and mask.
"Come along slowly, now, and this'll all be easy."
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Aug 6, 2018 1:33:03 GMT -8
/Cross/
"Oh..." He muttered with only the slightest hints of disgruntled dissatisfaction. It was a bit troublesome but... In truth, Cross wasn't quite sure why he'd be pulled into questioning. What for in particular; he'd made a poignant note in his mind to remain entirely nonmalicious. Sans the odd trespass or two.
"... F-forgive me." He chuckled and bowed his head, bringing a thin hand up to hold his hat in place before he took a step back from the door, looking to the window which he vaguely motioned to.
"I've a stew going... I'll go peacefully but... But I'd like to have a bowl of it, at least. A warm meal, before it all." Cross already made to depart towards it.
"A... Last rite, so to speak, Hmm?" He chuckled again, briefly, before licking his lips and shuffling on.
"Come, join me. Do you like mushrooms?" Cross inquired softly, his voice rasped and foggy, but the 's' cut sharp through his mask, like a wind blowing through the grass.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Aug 6, 2018 1:40:29 GMT -8
Meriwether's brows knitted, conflicted; he'd both like for the old man to enjoy his soup, but to also remain the unwavering hand of the law.
Cocking his curly-haired head, he shrugged boyishly,
"We're not... executing you or nothing. I could send for someone to fetch you some stew...?" He chewed his lip and squinted into the office, stepping forward a step after Cross and stopping just before it
"It's just urgent. Is the stew cooked? I'll let you put the fire out and bring a bowl with you..." He offered.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Aug 6, 2018 1:46:15 GMT -8
/Cross/
He stopped as Meriwether pursued him, The Doctor Cross squinted but the wide-eyed lens of his mask portrayed none of it, as he looked over the boy with a hum and sigh.
"Urgent..? I can't think of anything urgent I'm rightly involved in besides, huff, Sir Barnaby's... Midnight cough, feh." He grumbled the last words as he shuffled on towards the small fire and pressed the toe of his boot onto the coals, snuffing them with some sluggish sadness, he eyeballed the bowl and hunched over, reaching out slowly to check it.
"What am I being questioned for?" He asked with a shade of graveness to his tone,
"I have more than stew brewing, well beyond the capacities of a nurse; you're welcome to question me here." Cross looked over his shoulder to Meriwether,
"There's enough for both of us, and my knees are rather aching."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Aug 6, 2018 2:02:51 GMT -8
Meriwether's eyes widened, his brows high as though something had surprised him.
"I can't do it here... er, I need someone to take accurate notes and all on it. And I can't read." He pointed out and glanced about in the hall, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.
His fingers wiggled in place.
"It makes sure everything's confidential, too."
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Aug 6, 2018 2:07:28 GMT -8
/Cross/
"Can't you just bring someone here?" He asked, his tone strained as he straightened his back and held the bowl close to his chest, looking over to the Boy.
"Why would the Guard send someone after me who can't even read?" Cross' tone rose and a bit of a sneer came through in his voice before he brusquely jabbed the bowl of soup out at Meriwether,
"Carry it for me, and let's get this over with." Cross' grumbled and coughed again, before flexing his fingers about the raven's skull at the top of his cane.
Cross motioned to the door,
"Go on then, grab the soup, take me to your confidential, accurate note-taker."
\\
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Post by Vanitypirate on Aug 8, 2018 15:23:11 GMT -8
"I don't need to read." Meriwether scowled at the doctor, accepting the soup to hold it in one hand. It did smell rather good, but he wasn't about to trust the cooking prowess of a man who wore rats as proudly as a badge on his coat.
The mental image evoked a small shiver from the boy as he walked on down the hall.
At least he was being listened to.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Aug 8, 2018 17:02:56 GMT -8
/Cross/
He sighed as he stomped along, though his cane was louder than his flimsy feet, he struggled to keep pace with the Boy; more due to Cross' long stride than any exertion.
"What's your name, again?" Cross asked distantly, hanging his head as he began to hunch more and more.
The Raven's mask tilted to look at Meriwether,
"And how old are you..?" He asked in a growing curiosity. His skin had yet to sag, he had few wrinkles... Besides those born from strain; about the eyes and brow. Cross assumed the boy didn't shout much, his jowels were rather unremarkable and undefined.
His eyes held a spark of dedication to his purpose... For better or worse.
"... A young mind learns the fastest, you know? You might learn to read faster than me, if you started now."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Aug 8, 2018 17:15:17 GMT -8
Meriwether looked away again, squinting at the floor and wearing the grimace of someone who had tasted something unpleasantly sour.
"S-- Twenty... eight summers." He lied, straightening his posture in the next few steps, squaring his shoulders. It did little good; his face was still boyishly smooth, and his limbs were rather long, as though his legs grew faster than the rest of him.
He tried.
"I don't need to read." He insisted again, quietly. "Nobody taught me to read 'cause I don't need to. I'm not a priest or a doctor, like you."
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Aug 8, 2018 17:22:07 GMT -8
/Cross/
"S'Twenty... Eight Summers?" Cross remarked with distant surprise and admiration, all of it dripping with sarcasm as he nodded and looked to the point in the floor Meriwether looked at, then to Meriwether again.
"Do you know how to count years by the Ad Luxem Calendar?" He inquired with a small shake of his shoulders, like a Crow shaking off a cold.
"I'm not sure I can translate what twenty-eight Summers means." He mused before sighing and nodding.
"At anyrate, that is still young enough to read by my estimates." Cross looked ahead and plodded on, finding some entertainment in the night with poking at the boy. Verbally, for now.
"I imagine nobody's taught you to read because you've never bothered to try and learn." He remarked with a chuckle,
"Hmm... What ever will you do when you find the directions to a bandit's lair or an assassin's hideout written out on a paper? All alone, in a dank cellar?" He posed, looking to Meriwether again with a cluck of his tongue,
"You know it will happen."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Aug 8, 2018 17:36:29 GMT -8
Meriwether's brows pushed together and he glanced to Cross for all the moments he could stand looking at his beaked face.
"Ad... Luxem? How many summers are in an Ad Luxem year?" He asked before looking away, realizing that he was being toyed with.
It seemed that was all anyone wanted to do when they questioned his literacy.
"I'm supposed to bring all evidence I find to my superiors. There's no reason to read it myself." He sourly told Cross with a frown.
He wondered how long it was until they found the exit.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Aug 8, 2018 17:47:23 GMT -8
/Cross/
"One." Cross stated flatly, with enough gravitas that he let it linger and hang like a plum from a tree, before he grinned wickedly behind his mask, enough to shift the cloth wrapped about his lower face.
"What if the evidence incriminates you? A daring plot to oust the good Meriwether... It's a story I've read countless times."
Cross slowed his stride, and hummed, looking up he pursed his lips then moved on.
"Seen it many more. The Old Guard hates the New Blood... Speaking as an Old Guard." his dry, mirthless chuckle came muffled through his cloak and was more and more pretentious with each iteration.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Aug 8, 2018 18:15:16 GMT -8
"...But I'm not a New Blood. I've been a guard for years. I got a promotion, too." Eyes wide, the guardling shook his head and silently dismissed the possibility.
He was the Old Guard-- the sort of guard that hadn't died yet. He didn't know why.
Eyeing the Doctor incredulously, he pondered aloud,
"You were a Guard?"
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Aug 8, 2018 18:19:20 GMT -8
/Cross/
"Hmm, ah--" Cross hummed and raised a wagging finger at Meriwether before settling it back on his cane,
"--Are we starting the investigation early?" He mused, looking over Meriwether to idly count the amount of windows they'd pass before they hit the reception's area for the Sanitarium.
"What if I was a Guard?" Cross posed curiously, looking to Meriwether now, though still keeping track of windows from his periphery,
"Would that set me free? Will you finally tell me why you're ruining my night by dragging me out on the streets with little more than my dinner as grace?" His tone became strained, near the last, all spoken in one long winded breath, before he sighed and looked down to his soup, feeling its warmth slowly fading.
"It's getting cold." he stated miserably.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Aug 8, 2018 18:25:04 GMT -8
"Your stew's fine. It's hardly been a minute." Meriwether sniffed, feeling the wooden bowl with his wrist, what little exposed skin he had.
He squinted at the mask.
"You don't look like a guard." He unwisely observed; the doctor was as tall and wobbly as an old chimney in the wind.
"And I'm not s'posed to say anything about it until we're in the Hall."
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