Crystal

[youwonscience]

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Cosima
RECIPIENT: Riftwatch generally
NOTES: Nothing specific, but the vibes are bad

Hi, everyone. I'm sorry to have to do this again so soon, but I've been pretty thorough about checking and it seems like Provost Stark has vanished. [Clearly in the way Rifters do; if he'd just gone into Kirkwall and never come back, her tone would certainly be different.]

As his assistant, I'll be filling in as best I can until the organization has picked a new head of Research. I was still kind of getting a handle on his system, but, you know. We'll work it out.

I know we don't have a like ... formal process for this, as we just discussed. [Too recently.] But if anyone wants to have a drink and talk about it. Or not talk about it. I'm around for that too. Standing offer, even if you and I don't know each other as well as we knew him.

You can find me in the Research office for now. If I'm not there, I'll have my crystal on me.

Comments

[heirring]

Here? No. I mean in there.

[She makes a broad gesture to the door off the office leading to the living quarters. It is strange, really, being in these rooms, this office, at all. She has not been in them often, all things considered.]

He will have left some manner of letter for Miss Smythe somewhere, and I must find it so I may forward it to her along with the news.

[She is not standing still while she says any of this, obviously. She has nearly reached the door to the living quarters now.]

[youwonscience]

[Despite Wysteria's obvious agitation, it is in fact a thing it makes sense for the morale officer to do. Fair enough. Still, Cosima rises.]

Oh, I didn't think -- do you want me to take a look so you don't have to? I know you guys were close.

[heirring]

[This prompts a sharp, alarmed look from Wysteria telegraphed in Cosima's direction.]

Certainly not. It is my responsibility. [Has nothing to do with her position in Riftwatch and everything to do with—] He was my friend.

[With a soft snikt of the key in the lock, she unbolts the door and let's herself in.] But I would not be surprised if there were papers in here that are relevant to your work as well.

[youwonscience]

Um, sure. Yeah. Okay.

[If it's not an invitation, it's not not one, and she moves to follow Wysteria into the room.]

[heirring]

[Unsurprisingly, the room has much the same affect as the offices before it, or the Tony's bench and table of choice in the division workrooms. If it is odd to walk so directly into the man's living quarters, particularly when they seem to have been vacated only momtnsrily and not with sudden assumed permanence—

Well, then Wysteria doesn't show it. The key is slipped promptly into a skirt pocket. After a brief scan of the room's contents—there is the lute leaned against a chair, and a model of a glider on the mantle of the cold little fireplace—, she makes for a likely looking trunk.]

What dreadful timing. It is entirely uncharacteristic.

[youwonscience]

[It's not going to do any good to be pedantic about how rifters leave; Wysteria knows as well as Cosima does. Instead, she drifts to the nightstand, looking for notes used as bookmarks or other ephemera that might be useful.]

He might have left a will. If he didn't have one before Granitefell ... I think a lot of people made them then. I didn't come across it yet in his work stuff.

[heirring]

No, I can't imagine he'd have kept it among his work if he did make one.

[But he can't have left nothing at all. Even the lyrium reactor had been noted and catalogued. There will be—something.

She falls upon the trunk, which does indeed seem as good a place to begin looking at any, pops the latch and shifts back the lid. Inside are a number of off-season clothes, carefully folded, waiting for her. The sight of them is alarming, prompting a pause that she can't quite discern the exact cause of. They are only cotton and linen shirts.]

[youwonscience]

[She glances up from the book she was leafing through, idly hoping for a tucked-in note or maybe some marginalia.]

What is it?

[heirring]

[Hovering there over the open trunk—]

Nothing. Just the ordinary things.

[There are handles on either side of the trunk's top tray. Likely there are layers under this one, kept equally neat. Wysteria begins to lift one side, rattling it inside the casing of the trunk, and discovers very promptly that it is impossible to draw free one handed. So her hand lays to the fine switches on the back of her prosthetic, meaning to tease the fingers into a hooked shape for catching the tray's second handle with.

Only—]

Miss Niehaus, would you help me lift this away if you please?

[She turns her sleeve cuff back over the worked metal wrist.]

[youwonscience]

[She doesn't love that Wysteria won't say what she's looking for, mainly because Wysteria is usually so voluble. On the other hand, she knows Tony had been close to her. There's very probably something personal going on that isn't about her. She can let it be.

Cosima gets up and comes to take the other handle as requested, waiting until Wysteria is ready to lift the tray up and away with her.]

[heirring]

One, two, three, [and lift, the tray neatly sliding free of the chest. Between the two of them, it's easy enough to set aside.

The contents revealed by the removal of the upper section are generally more promising than simply shirts. Amidst a series of perfectly ordinary articles, neatly tucked alongside less wooly bundles of socks and a series of outerwear too light for the season folded away, is a box.]

This looks more likely. Thank you, Miss Niehaus, [prim and proper, before she goes about lifting away the box's lid. Behold, a stash of papers.]

[youwonscience]

[Cosima wonders if it always feels wrong. Going through people's private things after they're gone. (Wonders, briefly, if anyone did it after the wrong timeline at Granitefell; wonders if it was Tony.)

She lingers, letting Wysteria take a pass at the papers but curious enough to stay close unless actively shooed away.]

[heirring]

I suppose this is a great imposition to you and the office, Miss Niehaus, [Wysteria says as if on cue while thumbing through the documents inside the box. There are envelopes here, and folded up schematics, and some of them are labelled and others are not.

She begins to extract various sheets from the collection, setting these aside.]

[youwonscience]

[She watches, attentive but making no move to stop her.] I'm mainly just trying to make sure the organization keeps relevant institutional knowledge, you know? Not dropping any more balls than necessary. And I always knew he kept some things close to the vest.

[heirring]

As does most of Riftwatch, I think.

[What with all these mages and criminals and ex-templars and retired assassins roving about the island.]

[youwonscience]

Yeah, fair enough.

[Cosima, by Riftwatch standards, is an open book, but it's not as if she hasn't noticed the prevailing mood.]

Anyway. Not an imposition. You're his friend, it makes sense.

[heirring]

Oh no. Of course that isn't. I meant his going at all.

[Ah ha. From the folio of paper, Wysteria extracts three envelopes in brisk succession. They are sealed, and addressed, and after a brief survey Wysteria slips them into one of her considerable skirt pockets.]

[youwonscience]

OK, well, in that case, "imposition" isn't the word I'd use, no.