(no subject)

[devoutish]

[Alfie greets and makes nice with newcomers when he comes across them, but he doesn't go out of his way to seek them out. He's not interested in being part of any de facto welcome wagon, especially not now that more and more people are filtering their way in, either to use the Meadous as a waypoint or to settle down and stay; that can be a job for people like Meulin and Harley. He does, however, notice new houses as he passes them by, and today there's one on his regular walking route. He takes note of the name on the mailbox - Beauregard, good lord - and is all set to continue ambling onwards when a flash of movement catches his eye. Is that--

-- yes. That absolutely is his cat, leaping up onto the windowsill and slipping in through the open window.

With a sigh, he turns and heads towards the door instead, giving it a firm knock.]

Comments

[disreguarded]

The king's advisors came and asked us if we were willing to help. I said sure, what do you need.

[ she rubs at her neck. ] They said just figure out who killed our king, the group of you, and I didn't realize what that was gonna entail. I should've, judging by the whole... memory thing that Zephyr mentioned.

I didn't really think about it. I just wanted to help.

[devoutish]

And this trial fucked about with your memories?

[He'd heard and heeded Zephyr's warning, of course, but as he and Royce had headed off on their own very soon after arrival, he'd missed all the context and reasoning for it. But that said--

-- He thinks, suddenly, of the Libra Station, and something clicks.]

They put the memories of the crime in you. Have I got it right? They thought that that was the best and most accurate way to gather the evidence they needed.