Zoey’s Room;
Smells potent of antiseptic cleaner. They have scrubbed the blood that soaked the room clean. No one has claimed her items. Instead, they are sitting collected in plastic bags. Looking around the room, trying to get a sense of who this Zoey was an individual.
The room is small. Studio size. There’s a desk alongside the longest wall. Though it was being used as a counter space, with a microwave sitting on top of it, paper plates, and paper cups. Though no utensils, and various prepackaged meals. Macaroni and cheese, canned chilis, chicken noodle soup, a coffee pot, and insulated paper cups.
Wolf shifts, looking over at the metal door, “How often are you used to being trapped in a locked room?”
“Only when I am back home,” I respond.
“Is that a hint of a person I hear?” she laughs.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,”
“Beep Boop Bop, and here I was starting to believe you were a person,”
Heading over to a small bed placed in the room's corner. I shouldn’t have said something, inspecting the bed. The bloody, purple sheets sit in a plastic bag folded. There’s also a notebook sitting on top of the pillow, wrapped in plastic.
Picking it up. Did they scrub this for prints already? Looking around, finding a stack of napkins on the makeshift counter, attempting to balance the notebook in my right hand, while taking the napkin in my left to grip the spiral top. The cardboard top is splattered in oxidized blood. Slipping it carefully out of the plastic, trying not to lose my grip.
It takes a bit of fiddling to flip the top to the first page;
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/793206720906133545/938151042909085736/November_17_2019.png]
She’s worried about the perception of others. She’s worried about how her actions define her and she feels abandoned by the people she has put time and effort into. That’s emphasized, with none of her artifacts currently being taken. Flipping the page over to the next.
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/793206720906133545/938164537679552602/November_17_2019.png]
The Anti-Ora was founded to address the issues the people had with the Sect of Cosmos. Though I would argue that the Anti-Ora feels more faith based than the Sect of Cosmos. Though that is my personal feelings, I shouldn’t allow that to get into the way of my assessment of Zoey’s room.
“I should have brought something to read,” Wolf laughs.
“She joined the Anti-Ora because she was growing weary of the Sect of Cosmos,” I tell her.
“The Anti-Ora,” Wolf rolls her eyes.
“You don’t approve?” I ask her.
“Is that a statement of curiosity from you about me?” she winks.
“You don’t have to answer-
-but when will I ever get an opportunity to talk about me before your human programming short circuits again?”
“Am I that bad?” I finally ask her.
Am I coming off too cold? She takes a second, then I see her do a mental backtrack.
“Oh no. I was just teasing and being playful. You’re actually quite pleasant to deal with compared to some people I have Warded in the past. I could tell you some really horrifying stories about Misong. Not being locked in a room where a woman took her own life horrifying, but close enough.”
“I’m sorry,”
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She tilts her head, “You don’t have to apologize to me about anything,”
“I just don’t know how to gauge, whether-
-I just punched a man in the face. I will tell you exactly what I think without hesitation,” she nods with reassurance.
“Please don’t punch me,”
“Only if you legally deserve it,” she smirks.
Waving the notebook, “Curious?”
Wolf looks to the door, “Are we going to be going soon?”
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/793206720906133545/938175138078265404/November_17_2019_1.png]
Wolf laughs.
“It’s kind of like when the actual abuser claims the victim is abusing them. Just label her what they fear,” Wolf remarks.
“You don’t have a grand opinion about the Anti-Ora,”
“When have you walked into a Cathedral of the Sect and they immediately attempt to shove your asshole with cosmic space bullshit?”
“You don’t have a grand opinion about the Sect of Cosmos either,”
“That’s the grandest opinion I can give them. People say that they mix belief and policy, but I never seen it. The Oaths never felt like faith the way the Anti-Ora or the Traditionalist claim. Oh boy, I took an Oath to protect the pretty blond boy. The Sect of Cosmos states the Oaths are promises, and while I don’t think they are magical the way they claim, there is strength in words,”
That’s correct. We teach the Oaths we take and recite as promises we keep. You are only as valuable as your word. Most laws are really Oaths, we promise to maintain. The Civilian Service and Protection Department take Oaths to serve the Civilians. The Oakside Police is strange, it’s not common practice throughout the world to have a Police force. Well, not one without Oaths.
Wolf tilts her head, “What about you? The Order of the Exalted and the Sect of Cosmos are tied. You’re appointed by the Oracles as Agents.”
I prefer not to answer, because my answer is complicated. As a child, I spent a significant time in the Cathedral of Lenses in Orhythe End. I don’t know how to feel about - now isn’t the time to think about that. Right now I should focus on what I have gained here. Zoey is not someone I am picturing taking her own life. Her notes are not coming from a place of hopelessness. She was angry. She was seeking justice for herself. Why did she take her own life? Nothing about this feels right. She didn’t kill herself out of hopelessness. And these are likely not accidents. I don’t think the person killing these people truly understands the people they are killing. What kind of message is Karma trying to send? If they believe these people need punishment, then what were they punishing Zoey for?
Wolf is watching me. Oh, I haven’t answered.
“I have no feelings about the Sect of Cosmos or the Anti-Ora,” I tell her.
“Oh darn, your human programming has broken,”
The door slides open as if it has a will of its own. Bryan glares at us. Wolf raises a brow with a smirk.
“How’s the face?” she asks, pointing to her left cheek.
“At least you’re admitting to it,” a young man entering behind Bryan states with a smile. The platinum blond removes his glasses briefly to wipe a smudge away, “Florian Lysander, Chief Director of Oakside Police. This is Shaun Ortega, Secondary Director of Oakside Police. Bryan Ironwood immediately contacted me. He claims you are impersonating Order members and assaulted him. Do you mind having a chat with me?”
“I legally assaulted Bryan in my defense,” Wolf states.
Florian studies her, “Not sure I’d put the term legal and assault in the same sentence.”
“But I do, weird,” Wolf responds.
Shaun looks at her with annoyance, “You're the type who likes to talk, don’t you?”
“I just love the sound of my voice,”
“Moving on before she spins circles around the both of you, I am not impersonating an Order member, I assure you, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Florian Lysander. We have spoken through email. I wanted to remove as much noise pollution as I could upon arriving in Oakside. I deeply apologize if we have caused any form of interruption,” I am trying to keep everyone calm.
“I am not sorry,” Wolf declares.
“Your Magi?” Florian ask, “Honestly with all the mystery surrounding you. I was expecting someone in a mask.”
“Oh, now there’s an idea. We should get you a suit,” Wolf tells me.
“I know my appearance surprises many,” I state. Oh, uh I have the notebook still in my hand. Placing it down onto the makeshift counter space. Attempting to fight with my pockets to wrestle my shield out.
Florian watches, and then stares at the shield, “How hard is it to a forge a Shield?”
Who are they asking? Bryan or me?
“Look at him,” Bryan begins, “He cannot even get out his own Shield out properly. I am sure it’s relative-
-actually, unlike lamented ID cards, Shields are forged by appointed Smiths who work closely with the Oracles who maintain the traditional way they craft a shield. It’s incredibly hard to find a forgery of a Shield. If you have to question, its authenticity is likely real, not that I am putting it against someone trying to craft an authentic enough forgery. You can tell the difference between a forgery and a real Shield, simply by the way the metal looks. If there are dents or looks dull in color, then it’s fake,” I state cutting Bryan off. Wolf smiles.
Florian claps his hands, “Well, I am convinced he’s the real deal.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Bryan hisses, “That convinces you?”
“Did you know that?” Florian asks Bryan, “Any of it? I didn’t.”
Bryan sneers at me, “I am going to bury the both of your careers.”
“You can try,” I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. Wolf snorts. Florian raises his brows and curls his lips in trying not to laugh. Shaun shakes his head with a smirk.
“I can direct you two to the Oakside Police Department so we can chat about the current case,” Florian steers the conversation elsewhere.
“Oh good, I have to pee,” Wolf says with a smile.