Log:Blood On The Leaves: Dave's Execution

Blood On The Leaves: Dave's Execution
"Your punishment is death."
Participants Czcibor, Dielle, Vorpal, Ashe	2017.11.19 Dielle, Vorpal and Czcibor bring Dave to talk to Ashe. Part of the Blood On The Leaves plot.
Location Kerrigan's Sacrifice
Dave got held in a closet with water and jerky for a few days. Much to the surprise of others there wasn't complaining from the older gentleman. Maybe he was at peace with it being his time to go? Who knew. But tonight was the night he was getting to have an audience with Ashe. Apollyon drops out of the sky and lands outside the Harvestmen hollow and the Monarch crawls down off the back of the dragonbat with a grave look underneath those shadows. She doesn't have Byron with her. He might be running late. But, things are good to go for now. Dielle is standing by Dave, and waiting for Ashe. When Ashe comes in, she gets a respectful tip of the hat from the Unicorn. "Hey, Your Crownliness, we brought you a little present for Autumn! Dave, this is the last person you ever wanted to meet. Be respectful or I'll kick you inna fork, got it?" Within the hollow, Vorpal has added to the sense of tension by... well. By being present. The proximity of the God of the Hunt leaves every corner and edge gleaming like a knife's point or blade, truncating leaves and vines as if severed recently, and the shadows are -thick- and worrisome. For, that is- everyone but Vorpal. He looks completely at home, relaxing against a wall, honing a wicked-looking Hedgespun butcher's knife against a whetstone. He isn't paying Dave any particular attention. The work has his focus, casual as it might be. There's a warm breeze smelling of gunmetal and roses, of burning sage and ozone and green growing things, of the late days of Spring that are closer to Summer than Winter: Kowal's default Mantle, more prone to anger than sorrow, but still firmly rooted in the season of rebirth and fresh starts. The breeze pulls in on itself, whirling into a miniature cyclone for a half-second and pulling dust into it to give it definition, then resolving into the shape of a tall and solidly-built man. With no fanfare, that creature of wind condenses into the scarred man made of metal that had tied Dave up, the one with the Polish accent-- but he's now much, much more clearly a life-sized tin soldier, heavily armed and wearing what's left of a battered and battle-worn Napoleonic uniform, supplemented with that chainmail hauberk and, incongruously, a pair of Levi's jeans. His face is set in a mild and pleasant non-expression which will not change, here in the Hedge, and as soon as he's solid, he moves toward the wall and picks up a five-foot-tall black sword, the sheath for which is on his back. Then he stands there, completely motionless, the hilt of the sword held in both hands and its tip resting on the floor in front of him. He doesn't look happy. Actually, no, he doesn't look anything, and the roses in the scent of his mantle aren't even present in its visible manifestation: only thorns and kudzu. When two Shadowsouls are within proximity things can get pretty dark. Ashe's stitched smile isn't really a good thing as the shadows draw away from her face. Her black eyes look from Dielle and then to the others. They come back to Dave though. "Good evening everyone." she states as she pulls up a seat. Right in front of Dave. She gives a look to Dave, "I understand that you killed one Mrs Anne Marie Tennyson. Wife of one of my members." she looks to him. "Her husband has been gnawing at the bit to get his hands on you." she tells him. "I would like you to explain to us why you and your 'team' felt it necessary for Hunters to settle in our sleepy little town. And I need to know if you've killed anyone else. Or if you've taken anyone else and are planning on killing them. Since Anne Marie was tortured before you killed her." she states in a calm tone. "Do you guys have other questions as well?" she asks the Harvestmen. "I have one. Did you think that you and yours were going to come away unscathed? Or that your fellows aren't any less at fault because you tortured and killed one of ours? Are you stupid or arrogant?" Dielle's questions come with her standard Southern accent and quite a lot of pure contempt. She hasn't blessed his heart yet. That's coming. "Hm. Questions. Yes." Vorpal drags the whetstone along the knife again, a sibillant hiss providing backdrop to his calm, mildly interested voice. "Your leader suggested that Anne Marie was... an accident. That you lot got carried away. If that's the case, why make a spectacle of it instead of reaching out to explain and apologize? Is it because you somehow think we're not human anymore? Is that the story you tell yourselves to pretend you're not slaughtering wives, daughters, children, parents? Consider it a corollary to the "why did you start hunting here" inquiry. You're Hunters. It's -really- quite important I understand by what those calling themselves mine are motivated." The tin soldier may as well be a statue-- he doesn't nod or shake his head. He doesn't open his mouth. But his voice is nonetheless audible, a tinny and echoing thing, like a short-wave radio in an empty coffee can. "Do you have a religion, or next of kin who should be notified on the event of your death?" The question itself is cold, but it's followed by a statement with something more gentle, quieter. "I am currently incapable of falsehood, but you have only my word on that: if you have anyone you would wish to know, you may bind me in an oath not to harm them, nor to give their identity to any other, and tell me privately." Dave looks like he's had the most horrible time when people start asking question. He ooks to Dielle when she speaks, "We didn't think anyone was going to notice. And then I had a screw up." he admits. "Anne Marie was my wife." he tells them. "Well...before she was taken. When she came home she killed our children and left me in a burning house." he explains. "So I was stupid. The rest are arrogant." he admits. Then to Vorpal, "The core group moves from town to town. Killing a few as they go. They've killed two others since we've been here. One down at the river. And they've got one at the base." he explains. Then Dave looks to Czcibor and there's a shake of his head, "No, I have no next of kin. My parents are dead. My children are dead. I have no one to tell." he tells him. "And no religion." he shakes his head again. Dielle stares at Dave. Wow. That puts a whole different light on things. She opens her mouth, then closes it again. She's got nothin'. She looks from him to Ashe and it's very clear that she's suddenly VERY glad that this isn't her decision. And that empathy isn't always a gift. "-She- did? That's unlikely. I'd say it's far more probable- well. It's not for me to explain, I'm afraid, but it sounds like you made more than one terrible mistake. Anyone up to explaining that?" Vorpal glances at the others to see if someone's about to volunteer before he leads into his next questions. "Care to explain why you differentiate "the core group" from just "the others"? Are there partitions within your cluster? And, if you'd be so kind, which of your compatriots are likely on guard duty with the one at base? The more we know, the more likely it is we can extract the captive without confrontation. If this is all a horrible misunderstanding, it's best we protect the innocents first and then explain, before more mistakes can be made." Somehow-- somehow-- the only change visible to the tin soldier who stands as a silent sentinel-- before his own question's answered-- is a shift in his mantle from kudzu and thorns and ozone and smoke... to petrichor and snowdrops and a drop in temperature. Late June to late March in a heartbeat. And then it is answered, and the statue finally shifts; he bows his head. "All right," comes his quiet, hollow voice. A beat. "Her Majesty's decision, Vorpal." "He Fetch, her...double that was left was destroyd. So, yes. It /was/ her." Dave states to Vorpal. He seems very certain. "The core group are the founders. The guy with the crewcut. Brian and his brother Sherman. There's a third by the name of Marshall." he tells them. "And they switch off guard duty. They'll probably redo everything given their run in with you. So you'll probably have to find that out for yourself." he states. Ashe gives a look to Dave and a frown, "Ferrum's owner..." she nods to that. Apparently she knew who he spoke of. Then there's a look to Vorpal, "What horrible misunderstanding is there. They've killed two Changelings and have a third in their custody." she states. "And that's just here. Not the other towns they've stopped and killed others in. And who knows if it's just Changelings they are killing." she explains. Dielle turns and gives Vorpal a /look/. "You are allowed to ask questions. There are no decisions here that are yours right now." Her voice is flat and her look is warning. She's not happy. She turns back to Dave and says, "How many of us have you killed, as a group?" Vorpal rubs at his shadeswallowed forehead for a moment as both the commanding women round on him. He manages not to sigh, but it's a near thing. "Beg your pardons, Lieutenant, your Majesty. I thought I'd managed to keep to neutral language and avoid directing decision. Old habits, I suppose." The knife vanishes into his clothing, and the whetstone into his pocket. The motherfucking God is sulking. The tin soldier doesn't ask anything else. He only watches. He'd know if Dave were lying-- but he knows that the contract only detects falsehoods, not someone repeating misinformation they believe. Any other questions he has, he can save for Ashe or Dielle -- or both -- later. Hopefully prior to the execution. Ashe gives Vorpal a look and there's a bit of a softer smile, "I don't mean to swat you. But we've established that they are murdering our people for no other reason than that we are Supernatural creatures." she states. "Dave got sloppy and killed someone because he knew them. Made it personal. So he made it public." she frowns. "If they've killed others, then I don't think we can just let his compatriots go. My opinion, Lady. I get him wanting to kill his former wife, but that doesn't excuse the others that he's killed. They've killed. If they were killing Loyalists or Privateers, that'd be one thing. They're not." Dielle's kind of shut down. She doesn't look angry, just determined. She is, however, ignoring Vorpal's sulks, magnificently. "... you know, I think this is the first time I've overcorrected," muses Vorpal, somewhat mollified by the queen's response. "When you try to pretend that not EVERYTHING looks like a nail, it seems you occasionally forget to -stop- when you encounter one." There's still an air of frustration,but it appears mild and self-directed. "Marshall. Sherman. Brian. Thank you, Dave. The others, they're picked up along the way? Like you, done wrong and looking to guard others from the same fate? Any idea what got Brian's crew into this? And what supplied you lot with those literally magickal glasses?" He glances Dielle's way, monitoring for more missteps. Ashe gives a look to Dielle and there's a nod to her, "We won't be allowing that. I assure you of that. These gentlemen are going to be brought to justice. And we'll send word to the neighboring Freeholds and other cities and tell them if they've lost people, we might have the culprits." she states. Then a look to Vorpal, "You're fine, Vorpal." she tells him. Dave for the most part has gone silent, until Vorpal speaks. Then he looks to the man, "Some people just want to watch the world burn." he tells him. Dielle nods back and relaxes, very slightly. She glances at Vorpal and nods at him, just as slightly. He's fine. But Dave? She smacks him upside the head, like he's some kind of underling. "Who gave you the glasses?" Dave flinches when Dielle hits him in the back of the head, "We bought them from an Occultist that made Relics a few years ago." he tells her. It's the truth. "Excellent answer, Dave. I suppose I've... one more question." Vorpal turns fully towards Dave and- despite his eyes remaining unseen- the weight of his gaze drops onto the Hunter. "You've been killing us for years, you say. And you said- earlier- that your wife, on her return, slaughtered your children and left you in a burning house. I'm not going to contest that. What I -do- want to know, Dave?" He leans in a touch, shifting to get a better look at Dave's face. "Is about the others. The other changelings you've been hunting down over the last two years. Have they -all- done vile things? Do you -know- they did? Were you -told- they had? Or did they simply have the poor fortune to be -caught.-" Dielle looks surprised at that question, then nods. Her facial expression goes cold as she looks at Dave, not glancing at Vorpal or Ashe. She's weighing Dave's emotional state and answer, letting her silence hopefully unnerve the fucker. "The base is on the east side of the river, down by the bridge where the body was rolled off into the river. Not hard to find. Most people stay away due to the stories people tell around here. So we used it to our advantage." Dave states. Then he looks to Vorpal, "Not really. We didn't really have target criteria. I found my wife here by accident." he admits. "I just took orders. I don't know why you think I have all these answers." he states. Ashe shifts a bit, settling herself on the edge of the seat, she reaches out to turn Dave's head to look at her. "Dave, you're guilty of murdering our kind. You don't deny this. Your punishment is death." she tells the man calmly. "But. A little relief." she smiles. "Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen." And when Ashe states 'Amen' she starts to stand and there's a knife that is shoved violently into Dave's throat and she slices outwards. Yes, there's blood that runs down her hands. It's not pretty. But it's necessary. Dielle raises her eyebrows. "Daaaaayumn," she states, succinctly. It's not approving or disapproving. It just is. She clearly wasn't expecting that. "And here, I thought we were gonna get to use him on that Ashen Hunt thingie," she says. "Remind me that next time I bring you a squeaky toy, that you play rough with your toys." Then she grins. It's a fitting death. Even if there's no torture. "You know, to be honest, I thought maybe we would, too? But at the end of the day, I suspect our fine Queen has better quarry than a plain old murderer." Vorpal glances between Ashe and Dielle a moment. "So. We've got a nest of unrepentant serial killers camped out on the riverside. People who've made a years-long career out of hunting us, and have already stated they don't intend to go -anywhere.-" The moment hangs in the air a moment before Vorpal speaks up again to finish his thought. "-Please- tell me I'll be assisting." "He'd given most of the information that was necessary...and I gave him prayers." she states. Ashe wipes the blood from the knife on her sweater and resheathes it. Then she reaches out to grab the human by the shirt and she looks to him, "Oh we'll be hunting the group for the Ashen Hunt. I'll announce it at once." she tells Dielle. "I'm sorry about that. Anyone that hands down a death sentence should be prepared to carry it out by their own hand." she states. Then she looks to Vorpal, "The Ashen Hunt is open to all." she smiles to that. "Now. I have to deliver this body to Cassian while it's fresh." she chuckles. "Or well...Apollyon might fight me for him." she muses. Dielle says, "Your Majesty, if you don't mind, Cassian did ask the Harvestmen for help getting blood. Would you mind if I delivered it to him? Or did you just need to talk to him?" She grins at Vorpal's bloodthirstiness. Ashe gives a look to Dielle and there's a smile, "No, if you would deliver it to him I would be absolutely delighted...and I could announce things." she tells the rainbow one. "Vorpal and Czcibor. Thank you for your assistance this evening and over the last few weeks." she tells them. She's got blood all over her. Always go for the jugular. Then she lets the body go on the ground slowly. There's almost sorrow in those black and silver eyes. "I'm going to take my leave. Do any of you need me?" she asks. "Not at the moment, Your Horniness," replies Dielle, with a smile and a respectful nod. "Unless someone's got a bandage so we can save some of this blood?"