The Poet & The Pro! The Murky Life of Wictoria!

[Vio]

^{Wictoria #7}

---

“Jack Faeladh…,” Wick recited, committing the agent’s name to memory as they walked, herself slightly ahead by perhaps a pace in order to serve as guide through twilit streets. However, it was by his decision that they paused — an explanation duly parted from his own lips. Truly, it did not bode well that Montgolfière’s finest were forced to call for aid from without, though with no true sense of scale she did not in the least seem fazed by the looming threat.

“Then,” she continued with a little less warmth in her words, now knowing that Agent Faeladh was indeed just another lawman. “I do hope thy expertise is enough, lest thy criminal’s actions become too ambitious,” the fatigued female expressed, lacking something of the spark she had had within the confines of the bookstore. “‘Twould truly be horrific if an outsider such as thee fell prey to such a monster before justice could be delivered, yes…? Oh… Perhaps my words were a tad hostile — not intended I assure,” Wictoria waved, realising that a portion of her disdain was bleeding through into her words.

She blinked.

Mayhaps that would be a good topic for a new novel… Or is it far too cliché? I must consider, Miss Joan pondered to herself as she gestured again for Jack to follow, leading him across the cobblestones of the town and up the highstreet towards the constabulary. Not a far jaunt from the bookstore, of course, it took the better part of a minute or two with their conversation included. A few broad steps of stone raised them up from the street towards the tall, polished oak doors that formed the establishment’s entrance, illuminated by lanterns suspended at either side upon decorative iron hooks.

^{“This is your destination, Agent Faeladh,” Miss Joan stopped:
“I trust that thee no longer require further guidance…?”}

^Click…!

Please, do not be… As if on cue, one of the doors to the constabulary opened, just enough for bodies to fit through in single file, casting a slightly more inviting warmth. If only the shadow that blocked said light were a more inviting individual. Slender of face but well-built of body, neither too thick nor too thin, blue eyes overlooked the two who stood on the doorstep. A thin but solid black chinstrap beard hugged a squared jaw, slightly more pronounced at the corners of the chin, though lacking a moustache. Short, black wax hair held to his cranium, his head revealing a receding hairline that exposed a smooth scalp.

^{“Wictoria…”}

^{“Greetings, Father,” Wick replied:
“This gentleman was seeking you…”}

“I’ve warned you about assisting strangers, Wictoria,” the man replied sternly, posturing himself more openly from the doorway. His neat beige shirt and chocolate brown dress trousers with suspenders were partially covered by a brown jacket to which a brass sheriff’s badge was affixed, a black tie about his collar and a squared sort of hat held in one hand that he had clearly been about to put on before he’d opened the door. A holster of sorts just about peaked from beneath the jacket, likely holding the revolver and baton he carried on his person at what now seemed like all times.

^{“Of course, Father, but he’s here to see you…”}

^{“…Agent Faeladh?” he asked, waiting:
“Sheriff Joan Lanton. Please, enter…”}

Wick stepped back.

^{“You as well, Wictoria…”}

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synopsis:—}
<sub>Wictoria leads Jack to the constabulary, where they encounter Lanton.

NOTES: ——</sub>

---

Joan Wictoria | #f8de7e
Jack Faeladh | #03ac13
Joan Lanton | #19cde6
Mrs. Joan [NPC] | #c46210
Bobèche [NPC] | #8c46cc

[Sam]

It was unexpected to receive such a negative attitude when moments earlier the young girl had been more amicable. No, her demeanor changed, completely. But it changed at the mention of someone. Something. When he brought up his status as a lawman and mentioned her father who was a lawman himself. Jack tilted his head curiously causing his medium-length shamrock hair to flip to the side slightly. His golden tired eyes squinting as he prepared himself for a response.

"I know what I signed up for, Little Ms. Wictoria. I know that my job puts me in danger, but if my demise comes at the hand of it? Well, so be it. At least I'll die with pride knowing I did it while helping others."

Jack gave a bleak smile, tilting his head back his baggy tired eyes brightening up slightly.

"If I feared death I wouldn't have become a Cipher Pol Agent. Simple as that it's a risk that hardly matters when I get my reward. The happy smiles of families who finally get closure."

The closure he never got, that's what he lived for nowadays. He lived to give others what he lacked. To protect what he had. That was his call to adventure. Slowly, the smile faded and his eyes returned to their much more gentle demeanor as he straightened up his body and followed after Wictoria. He hoped his words hadn't been too harsh but then again the young lady had been assertive herself. What was it with young girls and rebelling against their fathers?

It was a curious thing... Jack didn't experience the same thing. He didn't have... he lacked his father and Vaun well Vaun often wasn't as overbearing with him as he was with his daughter. Jack rubbed the side of his head and sighed as they arrived at the oaken door with two lanterns at each side. It was rather lavish and well built for the sort of establishment it was.

"Thanks, Ms. Joan, I well not even my bad sense of direction can botch this I do believe, wohoho."

Jack went to reach for the doorknob when it was swiftly brought away from his grasp as the door made the distinctive clicking sound upon opening. On the other side was... a man, a native of this land of course built well with a relatively slender face. His eyes looked down on the pair but settled on the young girl. Judging by the demeanor and Wictoria's body language, Jack presumed this was the father... and the call out of her name helped accentuate that fact. No one but a parent could say a name with such stalwart sternness. Immediately verbally pouncing on the girl who was just explaining herself. Jack clenched his teeth.

"Well, sir I asked for help. She was merely assisting me, a lawman I don't-"

He was cut off by the man who asked for his name, the Agent gently flinched back and continued.

"-yes... Agent Faeladh well met Sheriff Joan."

With that, he began to follow the man indoors turning around to briefly look at Wictoria who had been beckoned too. Shooting her a look of 'what's up with him as his eyes shifted between her and the Sherriff with a slight grimace.

---

Jack | Shamrock | #03AC13 (Post Count: 7)

[Vio]

^{Wictoria #8}

---

At this point, there was no escape from the inevitable. Somehow, despite the fears of the populace, it was now that Miss Joan felt most anxious. In a way, she counted herself fortunate to be in the presence of Agent Faeladh, for it certainly subdued her father’s fiercely cold and outright overprotective temperament. Clearly, Jack was equally disturbed by the Sheriff, glancing in the girl’s direction as they stepped into the constabulary. Resigned to strict silence, she simply gave him a pensive look in return, voice shackled by the unseen chains of patriarchal pressure.

The interior was simple enough, open enough as a town of such size would need, featuring a somewhat high vaulted ceiling. Pillar-like protrusions around the main reception held sconces burning with soft, but bright candles — a clean use of white paint amplified the brightness to appropriate levels for menial office work. Behind a well used desk that partitioned the hall with its carved wooden barricades stood and sat a handful of officers, whose eyes locked onto Jack and Wictoria as the Sheriff escorted them through one of the gates towards backrooms. One such officer seemed to be tending to an elderly lady’s distress, which seemed to be about a cat from what little graced the aspiring author’s ears.

“Wictoria, wait here,” Sheriff Lanton spoke sternly, gesturing to a set of chairs against the wall of the hallway he’d escorted them to after ascending a flight of stairs. One had to admit, the rustic aesthetic of the building made it far more warm and welcoming than one might have anticipated of a station of law. “I need to discuss the current situation with Mister Faeladh. If you would, Agent,” he added, a little more courteously as he opened the oaken door to his office and gestured for Jack to enter. Wick scowled, but held her tongue.

‘Tis improper to engage in domestic squabbles in public, she assured herself, obliging her father’s wishes, much as she despised his approach. No doubt he shall berate me for daring to leave our homestead without permit… Seating herself, she gave one last look to Jack as he was ushered into the office.

^{—— THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE ——}

“Now, Agent Faeladh, on behalf of the citizens of Montgolfière I welcome and thank you for coming to our aid,” Sheriff Lanton said, offering up a chair to his fellow lawman as he set his hat back upon a rack and collected a file from a cabinet. “This case has been a difficult one, with few leads despite the number of attacks, but first: Can I get you anything before we delve into the details?” If anything, it was obvious that this man’s demeanour shifted quite readily in the presence of his daughter, for now he seemed a lot more humble and alive…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synopsis:—}
<sub>Sheriff Lanton escorts Wictoria and Jack to his office.

NOTES: ——</sub>

---

Joan Wictoria | #f8de7e
Jack Faeladh | #03ac13
Joan Lanton | #19cde6
Mrs. Joan [NPC] | #c46210
Bobèche [NPC] | #8c46cc

[Sam]

Like any other place in the town, the constabulary was well kept. Fine and fancy but not overbearing like some other nations which in Jack's most humble opinion overdid things. It felt nice and simple, to say the least, very welcoming. Jack always loved that, coming from a rather wealthy background he could never stand the extreme extravagance that often came with that life, it's why he proffered spending much of his time with his Uncle and his family growing up. A humble house was simply a lot more welcoming than his manor. Not to mention a lot less lonely too.

“Wictoria, wait here,”

Came the sheriff's voice, pulling Jack out of his deep musings. He turned to look at Wictoria, she seemed none too happy with this arrangement. While he wouldn't mind her tagging along he knew that was a bad idea. Instead he a tilt of the head to the girl before moving forward, listening to another ongoing case. One of an old lady and her cat? Quaint, to say the least. A place like this wasn't used to serial killers. Following the sheriff Jack entered his office, he stood next to the chair but didn't take a seat until the sheriff offered him to.

Placing a hand on his cheek, Jack furrowed his brow. The demeanor of the sheriff had drastically changed. From how he treated his daughter to how he treated the agent now. So the animosity was mutual between father and daughter? Jack internally sighed, he wasn't a family therapist but maybe space is what they needed to build trust. Either way, it wasn't his place.

"I'm good, I'm good. But thank you, Sheriff Joan. It's if anything an honor to come and serve the humble citizens of Montgolfière."

The Agent removed his sunglasses respectfully and gave a gentle bow. Now that they were off the massive scar across his right cheek became more visible as the most prominent feature on his visage. He put his spectacles in his coat and straightened up.

"In the matter of the case though... mm... I was provided with some information before presenting myself here. We're sure it's not a beast."

Beasts like coyotes have been entering urban locations in some islands posing a threat to commoners and their pets. But they're too small to do the kind of damage he was presented within images. Besides, Montgolfière didn't have coyotes or an equivalent for that matter. Bears or wolves were the two potential culprits with bears having the highest potential of the two. Jack shook his head and sighed. But even a beast wasn't as sloppy... there was ill will. The way they (the victims) were disfigured and dismembered. It was too grotesque. Bite and claw marks that were far from human were present throughout the body.

For a matter even if it was a beast it would likely be a rabid one which was another pitfall in the wild animal theory. Rabies takes its toll in less than a week and these attacks had gone on for at least two months now. It was truly gruesome whatever was going on. Another thing though, that discredited a beast was that the attacks had a pattern. Incapable of critical thought and without any natural ill will... it was certain to Jack a wild beast was incapable of this vile endeavor. It was enough to discard them as a culprit entirely.

"Besides there are patterns... like its premeditated."

The attacks happened around midnight when the moon was at its highest point in the sky and the number of attacks increased with the brightness of the lunar body. With new moons presenting exactly zero attacks. Whatever person was attacking had some affinity with the silver celestial body. Finally one more thing, the people attacked almost always had silver or white hair. It was all they had so far. But most peculiar of all, the culprit whatever it was would drag its victims away. In fact, all the bodies found were found by sewer workers underneath the city often miles away from where the victim lived.

"Before I present you my working theory? What are your leads exactly?"

---

Jack | Shamrock | #03AC13 (Post Count: 8)

[Vio]

^{Wictoria #9}

---

Wick sighed. With the shutting of the door, one of the few people who had treated her normally was gone from her social reach — probably for good if her father had his way. Still, she had to respect father’s authority both as a parent and as a lawman, else the situation would never change. Sat there, she pinched the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes tight, trying to diffuse the aggravation welling up inside. By now, such a ritual had become something of a norm.

…! The soft sizzle of inspiration found itself catching in that moment of darkness. Wick’s eyes opened wide, cowlick straightening. A small, leather bound notepad in hand and a pencil in the other, Miss Joan warily cast her gaze up and down the length of the hallway. For now, it was empty, and that was ideal. Her chair creaked softly as she eased herself onto her feet; a sound that certainly seemed louder to her than it actually was as she trod carefully until she stood beside the door…

^{—— IN THE OFFICE ——}

“Please, take a seat, Agent,” Sheriff Joan said, before Jack focused on the real reason for them being face to face — the rampage of a killer. The words that came from the Agent’s mouth did not change the expression on Lanton’s face as he listened, almost as if he’d heard these same words before. He had not. At least, not from any voice other than his mind’s own. The nature of the attacks were gruesome and bestial, but investigations had so far ruled out likely factors in animal attacks.

^{“Patterns,” the Agent said:
“Like it’s premeditated…”}

Lanton nodded.

^{“What are your leads, exactly?”}

“Well, we’ve entirely ruled out wild animal attacks at this point. Nothing has changed that could warrant wolves or bears to attack the citizens unprovoked, let alone come into the town proper to do so,” the Sheriff said, reminding himself of the rather placid wildlife of Montgolfière’s woodlands. “The people here are a close-knit community, so we’ve been able to conduct plenty of interviews with close friends and relatives of the victims without difficulty,” he added. “Aside from a few bits of local gossip that turned out to be connected to an entirely separate case, nothing out of the ordinary has been discerned. We’ve no reason to connect petty thievery with these events — the MO is entirely different.”

Lanton clasped his fingers together.

“The most recent victim was the elder sister of the third, but,” he continued, a little more quietly, “there are otherwise no significant connections between victims aside from being grey or extremely fair-haired.” As the Sheriff spoke, he unclasped his hands, showing a somewhat fidgety nature that completely contrasted his previously stern demeanour. This case was eating at him for multiple reasons, gnawing at him both physically and mentally, and breaking down the facts to somebody was starting to make it show. “We’ve interviewed other potential targets for the attacker and found no awareness of suspicious activities in their surroundings. We’ve allotted hours and rotas for increased patrols in the areas potential victims live. I’m due to speak again with Mayor Lumen about imposing a strict curfew for the potential targets, though she has so far seemed against police actions that she considers ‘drastic’… My current theory is that the killer is using a trained animal as part of the attacks, then disposing of the bodies… What of yours, Agent…?”

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synopsis:—}
<sub>As Sheriff Lanton talks to Jack about the case, Wictoria attempts some eavesdropping.

NOTES: ——</sub>

---

Joan Wictoria | #f8de7e
Jack Faeladh | #03ac13
Joan Lanton | #19cde6
Mrs. Joan [NPC] | #c46210
Bobèche [NPC] | #8c46cc

[Sam]

Entering the office proper, Jack took a seat, he pulled out a cigar from his jacket and gestured toward Laton as if asking for permission but also offering the man if he wanted a huff of his own. With that he sat idly listening to the Officer’s musings on the matter. Jack nodded, Laton was a rather intelligent man… there was no denying it. It was no surprised he had attained his status among the police force.

“Hm, that's a good theory.”

Jack stood up and walked toward one of the windows that lead to the office. He closed the blinds on them to ensure no one could look inside before turning around to look Laton dead in the eyes.

“I think… It may be of no surprise but there are certain reasons the World Government sent me here. If it were just a murder case they’d allow you and your men to care for it. After all, you all seem rather capable.”

He made a long pause before reaching into his coat to pull out a picture of a disheveled young man with pallid skin and baggy eyes. His dark brown hair formed almost ‘ear-like’ tufts on the side of his head giving the man a goblin-ish appearance. The mug shot of the man also depicted his wiry physique and showed that the man had a metal arm decorated by a predatory clawed hand. Jack placed the picture on Laton’s desk.

“This man, his name is Gren Dahl, he is the son of a Duchess from the Whiteland Kingdom.”

Jack explained, before turning his back once more.

“Dahl has… quite the record, he ran away from home at age sixteen and has been involved with various circles of the criminal underworld. On May 3rd he arrived on this very island and has been missing ever since.”

He sighed audibly, the information that would follow was confidential. It had all been part of a grander case that Jack had been pursuing for a while. One piece had fallen after another.

“But there is more, Officer Laton. You see, there is a plague that has been circulating among those in the criminal underworld. A weaponized disease, one that our dear old Dahl has been seen delivering for various figures.”

Jack reaches into his coat and pulls out another image. This time of a massive hog with crazed eyes. The creature was grotesquely large and seemingly uncanny.

“Creatures and even people go feral… they grow stronger… bigger… aggressive.”

Lupine eyes met those of Laton almost waiting for the officer to put two and two together. This was certainly it. Whatever this plague was the world wanted its hands on it to better control it. For the best interest of the citizens… or so Jack hoped. Criminals having access to such pestilences created massive problems. Of course, if they could catch Grendel here and now they could track down who was truly controlling the chain. It had to be someone intelligent and with knowledge of diseases…. perhaps a rogue doctor or scientist. 

---

Jack | Shamrock #03AC13 (Post Count: 9)

[Vio]

^{Wictoria #10}

---

Ear near enough against the door to her father’s office, Miss Joan listened intently, picking out the voices of her paternity and Agent Faeladh—words muffled somewhat by architectural design and distance. It was almost straining upon her hearing to comprehend complete sentences, but she was managing, scribbling down in shorthand as much as she could discern. Her father suspected a trained animal being used as part of the attacks? But hushed tones from the traveller were harder to determine.

“This man, his name is…,” Wick heard Jack say, just barely. “…Ran away from home… Arrived on this very island…” The aspiring author’s face twisted a little in frustration, unable to fully parse the utterances that likely were crucial to the case. That did, however, leave a lot to the imagination. A glimmer of hope for her writing career if she could fill in the blanks with details of her own, though that was not as easy a feat as she might have liked.

“Weaponised disease?” Sheriff Lanton gripped his jawline tightly with one hand, stretching his face slightly as he observed the photograph shown to him. In times of war, horrific armaments were often brought to bear against opposing nations, but to think that global criminal circles had access to such abominations—to think that science had come far enough to be able to create them—was as shocking as it was baffling. “Then that means you’re suggesting, if Mister Dahl hasn’t been using it on local or illegally imported fauna, he might have become infected by the very same biological weapon he was trafficking?” It was a burdensome thought.

“Agent Faeladh, you have my thanks for delivering this information,” Mister Joan said after a moment of contemplation. The consequences of this could be disastrous for Montgolfière—he needed to be thorough in his own investigation. “A question, if I may: How contagious is this disease? If there is risk of it spreading to the country’s fauna and citizens, I at the very least wish to know. A serial killer on the loose is bad enough, let alone the risk of a dangerous disease getting out,” he stated, sharp insistence on his tongue as he kept his urgency toned down to a more private volume.

A disease…?! How execrable, Wictoria thought, disturbed by the very thought as she took a soft step back from the door and began to process what she had overheard. Sparked by the tragedy befallen upon her homeland and the knowledge she had garnered from a little eavesdropping, her brain was now alight with possibilities. But even then, with the fragmented knowledge she had managed to take in, something was very much amiss. A question that had neither been asked nor answered…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synopsis:—}
<sub>Sheriff Lanton is shocked and concerned by what Agent Faeladh has to say about the case, and Wictoria manages to pick up parts of the conversation.

NOTES: ——</sub>

---

Joan Wictoria | #f8de7e
Jack Faeladh | #03ac13
Joan Lanton | #19cde6
Mrs. Joan [NPC] | #c46210
Bobèche [NPC] | #8c46cc

[Sam]

“The public mustn't know about it, however.”

Jack explained the matter of weaponized diseases. He personally didn’t like withholding information but it's what the brass had asked for and Jack could at the very least understand why. They didn’t want citizens to panic. That would be disastrous. In a way that was the true strength of biological weapons such as these. The psychological damage that they could cause to a society was at a grand scale.

“Mm… I’m uncertain if Dahl himself has been infected… but I figure one of his suppliers is around and perhaps they’re experimenting on fauna.”

He tapped his chin pensively, truth be told there were many ways this scenario could unfold. Jack just wasn’t sure if he was a fan of any of them. For the sake of the citizens of this island.

“Hm… no problem. On the matter of… its virality. From what we’ve gathered it's not airborne or waterborne. The disease is transmitted by blood and doesn’t seem too contagious.”

Jack pondered, that much they knew. But diseases evolved. They were fickle things that could easily get out of hand, especially viruses and as far as they knew new strands could be created. Regardless, Jack was determined to catch this man and try to put an end to this madness. The murders had to stop… the mysteries of the plague could wait.

“I’m going to catch Dahl, Officer Laton.”

He sat down.

“Do you have crime maps… I think I know how.”

---

Jack | Shamrock #03AC13 (Post Count: 10)

[Vio]

^{Wictoria #11}

---

Curiouser and curiouser, Miss Joan did ponder as she thought better of overstaying her discrete ‘welcome’. All things had to be taken in measure, even if they were technically unlawful and rude acts. Those who have lost their lives because of this savage plaguebearer have not been seen to have any form of ailment, she continued in silent contemplation as she daintily stepped back to a seat outside of her father’s office and occupied it, trying not to look to conspicuous—no more than she normally would to the people—as she scanned the hall for passing officers.

“Purely bloodborne? …Even so,” Sheriff Lanton hummed, somewhat satisfied by the low risk of an epidemic emerging on top of the town’s serial killer issue. “With the information you’ve provided catching him will be no easy task, I’m sure, but it is of utmost importance to the both of us,” he added, a certain graveness present on his face as his brow furrowed in a stiff curve that called forth concerns more personal than mere police work and love for his people. “My wife and daughter, I fear, could soon become this monster’s next victims if he is not found soon! You’ve made acquaintance with Wictoria, her hair is pale blonde—just like her mother’s—and barely a shade lighter than that of the second victim,” the lawman addressed, fingers clenching and stern expression broken for just a moment before he inhaled and cooled his nerves.

“Wictoria is, not a rebel per se; she has a lot of potential, but is far too naïve,” Lanton winced a little, dealing himself a mental blow as he subdued the struggles of his intentions that had so far caused contention. “Still… Maps, yes, one moment.” Moving from his chair to a small cabinet, he quickly retrieved a rather dense set of files that had been printed ‘urgent’ and set them on the desk. Victim details, autopsy reports, and even a hypothetical evaluation from the force’s psychiatric analyst existed—the one file pushed forwards opened out into a number of recently reprinted maps of the town and immediate areas plastered in notes.

“I hope these will suffice, Agent,” Lanton said, gesturing towards the maps presented. “The erratic nature of the attacks and the relatively small size of Montgolfière have made it near impossible to narrow down possible hiding spots or a base of operations, and though there has been no murders in and around the town centre, I’m hesitant to rule it out as a safe space.”

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synopsis:—}
<sub>Sheriff Lanton reveals some of his personal drive to Agent Faeladh, though Wictoria abandons her eavesdropping.

NOTES: ——</sub>

---

Joan Wictoria | #f8de7e
Jack Faeladh | #03ac13
Joan Lanton | #19cde6
Mrs. Joan [NPC] | #c46210
Bobèche [NPC] | #8c46cc

[Sam]

Jack shifted in his seat as his yellow eyes shifted around to the corner of the room momentarily looking at the door imagining Wictoria sitting behind them. Indeed, he had yet to consider what her father had pointed out. Wictoria and her mother’s hair were not too dissimilar. He put a hand on the table and turned his eyes back again toward Lanton.

“This… is concerning indeed. I’d hate to suggest it especially for a free spirited lass like her but… perhaps keeping Wictoria under constant supervision until this is resolved would be prudent.”

The Agent bit his lip, he wasn’t exactly inthralled with the idea of doing such a thing or even suggesting it. But there was something tugging at his own heart. His own sister… a white haired girl who was free spirited. Taken. Disappeared. Dead. But the relationship both girls had to their fathers was perhaps the aspect in which they resemble each other the most. Jack huffed as he composed himself. He’d seen what losing a child could do to parents and the agent now considered it his mission to not let it happen again.

“Either way, thank you for the maps.”

Grabbing a hold of the maps the green-haired man fiddled through the pages. There was not a word from him as he thoroughly studied the various points of attacks throughout the spiraling streets.

“I got it… so it seems the attacks happen near alleyways around the old cemetery.”

Jack tapped his chin as he thought his course of action thoroughly. It was a risky plan and rather frankly he wasn’t expecting a serious man like Lanton to even take it seriously. The Agent let out a sigh as he placed the maps back on the desk gently and leaned back on his seat.

“I appreciate your help Officer Lanton and here is what I’ll do to apprehend this criminal. I’ll be bait. Provide me with a white wig and I’ll walk through a route near the cemetery. Post your men at the ready and if the beast approaches. Strike.”

---

Jack | Post Count: 11