11/25 "The fool has limitless potential"

 Task says, "Alright, he'll either be dead in a day or perfectly fine."
 Morgana tapped her foot restlessly on the ground, glancing over at some of those around. "Things have felt boring. Has there been anything interesting happening lately?"
(Morgana)
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 Soiree places her pipe back in her mouth, leaning forwards and humming quietly.

"Incarnation of evil. Bigger than a man. Beat the shit out of Little Lionel. It's either a very big, very angry man.. Or they ran into a demon, somehow, somewhere."

She shrugs, taking a long draw from her pipe before exhaling inky, thick, black smoke.

"..Been quiet since the murder. Aside from the Watch trying to shove their noses in our business constantly. Wish they'd leave, already."
(Soirée)
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 Morgana tilted her head to the side. "Murder? That just shows how out of the loop I've been about things. Maybe I should try and pay a little more attention lately." she said with a sigh.

"That does why I've seen the Watch everywhere as of late though." The woman stated, reaching into one of her pockets to remove some jerky to begin snacking on it.
(Morgana)
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 turned her expression toward Soirée, silent for the sake of silence, on the tangent that had arrived to itself. Disinterest in some of the things happening. Leaning back, while she listened to the conversations and sudden interruptions, the girl clicked the metal device in hand a few times.

Maintaining a smile. While a yawn escaped her in the night. "Unfortunate in both cases... Murder and people being possibly maimed by beasts."

She brought her hands together and rubbed them slowly as if cold.


(Helena)
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 Morgana sighed. "Dangerous times lately to be sure, then. Don't even know how to defend myself with people tossing around Fire and whatnot too." the girl continued to chew on her piece of jerky.

"Maybe I just shouldn't be picky about it." Morgana said with a shrug. "And yeah, Murder. I wonder who even got Murdered? Was it some Noble?" she pondered aloud.
(Morgana)
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Task would offer Soiree a respectful, two fingered salute as he comfortably leaned against the wooden post, puffing away at his corncob pipe as he blew steady streams of minty smoke into the distant horizon. The commentary didn't seem to bother him in truth, perhaps he was used to the general mindset of the slums to the point where it was just a natural turn of things.

"Someone needs to patrol Sudsbury, same as anywhere else in the city citizen. As long as there is nothing that requires us to shove our noses too deep into things, I doubt there will be much issue. The people here are under the protection the constabulary the same as anyone else, we will not tolerate abuses of the Order as long as we remain at our post."
(Task)
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 "Been a few months, at the very least. Maybe a year, by this point. Happened in the streets of Sudbury, and, ah.."

She leans back into her chair, letting her eyes close as she takes another, extremely long puff from the pipe. The black smoke that ebbs from the end, that leaks outwards from the corners of her lips, combines with the pitch black night to flow high into the air, not so much vanishing as collecting alongside the dark sky.

"It's just their excuse, really. The /real/ reason that the Commander of the Watch, the real reason that Dunstan has nearly tripled his patrols, here, is because of the scene that happened with the Knights around the same time. You've all heard, yes? A group of Lighters show up and claim they're here to test our worth, to see if 'any of us are useful to them'."

She leans further back, almost appearing older than her age. The stench of cherry-chemical-overload perfume fills the air, only countered by the occasional draw from her pipe that fills the nearby vicinity with the smell of it, instead.

"They march their constables here and tell them to set up, that they will protect us from the Light. But when we need them most, they instead do precisely what the First Light seeks to do. They arrest for minor infractions, haul off slum folk who can barely survive living as is to the cells. Pay a fine, or live in a cramped cell for a year or two to pay for your crimes. Nobles pay for their freedom, is the difference."

She leans forwards, now, freehand resting against the staff on her lap, over top of her knee. She glances off towards Task for a moment, then shakes her head slowly as she returns the gaze to the center of the 'square'.

"A good excuse, but it's very easy to see through. Dunstan is so certain he is protecting us that he does not see that he is doing the exact opposite. With the constables here, a man wasalmost arrested for an assault. And what was the end result of this 'assault'? A friendship, blooming and pure, and a new member of The Faith. A fight broke out, and at the end of it, the two people involved settled their differences. The difference?"

She snorts, quietly, a halfway there laugh that comes too far from her throat.

"The noble hires cutthroats to kill him when the Slummer merely saw it as them settling their issues. Where is the Watch to stop that? I'll tell you where. Sitting with us, listening to us chat, waiting for me to say the wrong thing so he can arrest me for trying to spark a revolution."

She exhales, again, with more smoke pluming in front of her. It had been quite some time since she had last taken a draw from her pipe- Just what was she smoking that had that long lasting of an effect?
(Soirée)
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 Morgana sighed to herself.

"That explains some things, at least. Like I said, I've mostly remained ignorant of what's been going on. But it does make me think back to that conversation that occurred the other day."

She recalled the restlessness of some civilians. She wondered if something like a revolution would occur afterall at some point. "I doubt much will actually change, though."
(Morgana)
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Task would listen calmly to all of Soiree's misgivings, puffing away at his corn cob pipe as he glanced without judgement or disdain at the citizen. Her distrust and distaste were not without some basis; the city had done much to disappoint the people of Sudsbury with its apathy to the slums conditions. Troubles the bald constable knew all too well as someone that grew up there.

"You aren't incorrect in that Commander Dunstan's increased patrols here were due to that incident. The order overstepping their reach and trampling upon the common folk is an offense against the very idea of justice, and the more eyes the constabulary has here when such an issue occurs, the more likely it is that we can apprehend it. It is a blight upon the honorable bearing of knighthood to take advantage of those with lesser means, and one that personally disgusts me."

The bald constable would cross his arms tight across his chest, puffing away as he glanced up towards the distant moonlight with a somber visage.

"It is also true that perhaps the efforts of the constabulary are occasionally misguided. The people of Sudsbury have good hearts underneath their eccentricity, a different set of customs to the rigid law of the greater city. There is much we can do to improve how this district is handled, plenty of ways to ensure that minor infractions are handled in a way that properly discourage further anarchistic activity rather than spur it on through cruel treatment in the judicial process. Poverty is not a sin, it is an affliction that far too many suffer."

Task would sigh, gesturing idly to Soiree as he continued to speak.

"It isn't a crime to have an opinion, to be upset with the way things are in the city and to desire something to change. It is a frustration many in Sudsbury feel because they do not feel adequately represented within the city they call home. I cannot promise that I will be there for every misstep and injustice the nobility might commit, I am but one man with two eyes and two hands. But I can promise that to the best of my abilities, I will pursue justice for the people of Sudsbury as a member of the city watch, for this is my home. Even if I must become the guard captain of this district and change things myself."
(Task)
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 Soirée says, "..Have you and I had this conversation before, Watchman? You and I specifically."
 Task says, "I think so. Probably with slightly different wording."
 Soirée says, "Mm. Then I will tell you what I told you last time."
 Task says, "That would be rather convenient."
Morgana listened to what Task had to say.

"Seems like wishful thinking.." she uttered.
(Morgana)
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 Task says, "It wouldn't be an ideal if it was easy."
 A quick twirl of their cane plants it deep against the dirt. Meanwhile, a spare hand tips the brim of his top hat skywards. The character offered an attentive ear to the conversation at hand.

"Well, this is quite thoughtful~"

The mask turns towards the two of them on after the other. They were a spectator in what might be a dramatic play!
(Nuro Lyon)
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 Soiree takes one final, long drag from her pipe. It's punctuated with her apparently seeming to swallow the smoke, bits of it flooding out of her lips as she twists her hand just enough to flick out the remainder of whatever was inside. It's shifted, very quickly, to set itself within a pouch at her side.

"The City Watch has no authority here, should one of the First Light arrive."

She said it plainly, simply, as if it were as evident as the fact that the sky was blue. Her eyes wander towards him, gilded gaze almost like a snake's, biting through him for only a brief moment, even despite her smirk.

And then, with a wide smile on her face, she motions towards Morgana.

"Precisely. Wishful. Thinking. A First Light Knight arrives and raises Hel. Let us say they were there on a mission from an Exarch, and despite it going awry, the end result is accomplished. The Exarch is pleased. Once you 'arrest' this Knight, drag him off to the cells, you are powerless. You can do nothing else. You promise us safety and guidance, but you know, I know, /all/ of these people know your true role."

She grasps her staff, lifting it before suddenly jamming it down, base-side first, into the dirt beside of her. It sticks up, enough for her to have something proper to lean against that wasn't just the arms of the chair, something to brace herself to take weight off of her leg.

"You are here to watch us like a watchdog. Your only role is to cry out whenever we do something you deem unfit, something that those who already despise us have declared is a crime. The First Light arrested men outside of Sudbury for looking at them wrong, did you know? Witness reports, arrests solely because they could. Where was the Watch then?"

"Your only role here is to have a law presence when you are not needed. As mentioned, the people of Sudbury can handle themselves. They are, allof these people, my family. My Rhoynish sisters, forced into slavery. 'Indentured servitude', bah.. And my downtrodden brothers who starve, with nary a way to fix it. And then, should they try to survive, should their desperation push them to the edge, instead of assistance?"

She leans back, eyes closing, the grasp on her staff loosening.

"You punish. You arrest. You scold them like a child, while they, while we, fight for our lives."

"I apologize, Watchman. I've changed my mind. Your goals are not merely wishful thinking. They are outright fantasy and fabrication, serving only to make yourselves feel better about your goals. That is how I feel. That is how Sudbury feels."
(Soirée)
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Morgana blinked hearing the cynical and passionate speech from Soiree. She didn't have much to say, but looked towards Task to see what his response might be..

She also finished eating the rest of her jerky. "..."
(Morgana)
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 "I'd arrest a member of the First Light the same as anyone else if they broke the law. Authority or not. I can't read or write, they can hardly expect me to fill out the papework."

Task would shrug idly, puffing away at his corncob pipe as he flashed Soiree a missing toothed grin, leaning comfortably against the wooden post with a firm nod as he reclined. The bald constable appeared to be nothing if not bold; his tone betrayed no deception or dishonesty in its intentions.

"If an Exarch orders an illegal effort and pats their subordinate upon the back for it, they are just as culpable under the mantle of the law as anyone else, and will be prosecuted for their actions. No one; no lord, knight, merchant or vagrant is above the law. If the order cannot punish its own people, then the city watch will. The law will not yield to their politics."

The bald constable would release a cloud of minty smoke as he offered a genial smile to the pink haired slumswoman. He appeared to welcome the discourse rather than grow uncomfortable from it; it seemed he'd rather the people here be honest with him of their opinions then fear to speak their minds.

"You aren't wrong. I am here to watch. I joined the constabulary to protect the people of this city, and everyone here is as much my people as anyone else. Class, race, standing...irrelevant. Anyone who lives in this city deserves the protection of the law, not to be abused by it because members of the order enjoy inciting conflict to sharpen their blades. I am certain the people of the slums are capable of handling themselves and their internal affairs, I remain to ensure the Order doesn't have their own opinion on that matter. Justice is blind."

At Soiree's last statement, the guardsman would bark out in light hearted laughter, slapping the hardened leather of his vestiments with a missing toothed smile. He appeared entirely in good cheer, unbothered by any of the chatter or disdain.

"Fantasy, certainly. It is not a simple or likely task to see the world as I desire. It will take more effort and resources than I'll likely have in three lifetimes. Fabrication though? No. It is my ambition, and I will see it come to fruition. I speak no lies, nor will I so long as I draw breathe. Honesty is the best policy."
(Task)
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 Soirée says, "I will be honest with you, Watchman. You're the only man I've ever met who believes his own words even after he's said them."
 "You're really idealistic. Wouldn't expect it from just looking at you." she said with a bit of laughter. "That being said, if people like that broke the law they'd find some loophole to get away easy."

Her expression turned into a frown, seeming frustrated.

"That's just the way it is. One man alone can't do anything."
(Morgana)
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 Task says, "Someone has to. If I am just one man now, than I will aspire to further heights to reach this idealistic fairy tale and make it reality."
 Task says, "I will become the watch captain of Sudsbury. I will find the right men to serve under me, and ensure the Order's abuses are halted. And if I die doing so? Assassinated for my incorruptibility? Then I died well."
 Morgana says, "If you do what you want to do, try not to actually die. That doesn't help things."
 Soirée says, "Or you died a fool, reaching for a goal you could never truly reach."
 Task says, "Why, dear citizen, I am already a fool."
 Petyr reached for yet another mushroom. What they lacked in flavor, they made up for in being a good distraction to chew while the spectacle took place. If only because of his own unwillingness to join in on their debate, he kept wordlessly shifting his gaze between the woman and the guardsman.

"If you die... won't that put everything back to square one?"
(Petyr Cale)
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 Soirée says, "Don't worry. You've made that incredibly apparent."
 Task says, "All idealists are. It's what makes them implacable."
 Task says, "Thank you for your compliment."
 Task says, "That said, I don't intend to die carelessly or quietly. As long as I draw breathe, I will pursue my aspiration."
 Nuro Lyon says, "Hahaha, the Fool has always been one of unlimited potential."
 Morgana moved her hands behind her head and leaned back against the wall. "You're a strange one. I'm not used to seeing someone speaking so passionately in such a way."

Her eyes turned to the skies.

"I look forward to seeing what you can accomplish. I don't expect much, but it's nice to try and not think miserably constantly."
(Morgana)
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 Task would offer the citizens a professional smile, idly puffing away at his corn cob pipe as he crossed his right, sinewed arm over the cloth of his watchman's cloak and the leather of his armor. Bowing his head, he'd blow a stream of minty smoke towards the ground as he spoke.

"Strange? With certainty. Some people have to be, or else all the milquetoast cheese eaters in the order would get their way. I am Constable Task, a pleasure to make your acquaintance properly citizens. It has been a pleasant chat, I thank you for speaking honestly with me. Criticism is important, especially with law and order. Tyranny finds its seeds in apathy."
(Task)