тнιngѕ we loѕт тo тнe ғlaмeѕ ➶ - Stri and Socks

A job. It seemed like Percival's head was not moving at the speed which he wanted it to. He'd had something in mind for Benjamin, but he couldn't work out what it had been ...
Oh ...
"Would you come with me?" he asked. "To talk to someone?"
There it was. That had been Percival's intent. His shoulders relaxed a bit, though that didn't stop his head from spinning a little bit more over all of this. This was ... well. It seemed like he needed reminders to just do simple tasks. Like talk to a witness. File reports ... he'd filed a report. He'd sent it. He felt sick to his stomach to admit what had happened to Aliissa, but it had been the only thing he could think to do. It was ... it was what he had to do.
Even if it meant making it real.
"It would be useful," he continued, even though there had been a long pause. "To help me ... keep track of the details."
Admitting he needed help. That was a new one.

"I would appreciate that," Percival agreed. Maybe the conversation with Benjamin was helping, but there was slightly more focus in his words. Slightly more attention being paid. Not more capability, admittedly, since there seemed to be a struggle on Percival's part to actually get his thoughts in order, but at least it was something.
"Ah ... yes ... who ..."
He moved to the table and shuffled through the papers, his hands fumbling a little but eventually finding the written records. "Here." He pulled out a scrap of paper, on which was just a barely readable scrawl.
"Mariela Robertson. 42. Address and so forth."
He stuffed the scrap of paper into a pocket. "She ... she saw one of the fires and came forward with information. She didn't give much hint to what the information is though. So I ... that's our job. Does that sound like something you can do?"

"Of course," said Percival, though it made it sound like he hadn't actually heard. He moved toward the door though, which seemed to indicate the fact that they were leaving now.
With everything given to Benjamin, including the information, it seemed like this was indeed the possibility.
He opened the door again, looking back once, then headed out.
Still no sign of Marcus. And no explanation. But very briefly, as Percival left, there was a slight wisp of the smell of smoke.
Then it was gone. And Percival was on his way, expecting Benjamin to follow and close the door behind him.

Percival kept his speed for several more moments before he slowed long enough that he could match Benjamin's. "It isn't," he said. "It is perhaps several blocks or so, nothing more than that."
He turned so he was looking down at the much smaller boy. To which he would have liked to ... what? Pick him up and carry him, maybe to protect him from the harshness he'd just pulled the boy into without though for how this might effect him.
It was selfish. So selfish and Percival knew that. But he couldn't bring himself to do anything else. He couldn't bring himself to leave behind the only resource which he had that didn't go - that didn't seem impossible to reach.
"I'll show you the way and we will do it together," he said, with a show of team spirit that he hadn't seemed to show before. Not to Benjamin, at any rate.
"Here." He indicated the direction, once they had gotten onto the street, continuing to follow along it until he had to make another turn. It was only then that his steps seemed to strengthen with just a touch more confidence and he was able to walk along Bejamin with some of the same energy that he'd had before.
The house that they were going to was not that far away, but still looked like it had been downgraded a bit in class. Percival did not seem badly off (or Marcus, for that matter), but whoever lived in this house might very well be living meal to meal. Percival lightly opened the door and turned right, climbing a set of stairs before knocking on a door, third to the right, when they reached the top.
"Try and think of any questions you think might be relevant," he told Benjamin softly.
It was after a while that the door opened, revealing a woman suspiciously peering out at them. Her eyes didn't lose the look, even after she said, "Oh, it's you." In fact, she looked at Benjamin with what might have been even more paranoia. "You're not one of those are you?"
Percival looked slightly embarrassed (and tired). "No ma'am," he said. He also tried not to look at Benjamin.
"And him?" she asked, squinting at the boy.
"Neither is he," Percival said quickly, hoping Benjamin wouldn't ask.
"Humph. You might as well come in then ..."

The woman still looked at Benjamin with a distrustful expression. As if she expected him to grow two heads. Percival too, for that matter, but it seemed to be a different kind of distrust.
"Sit down if you like," she said, shuffling around as Percival entered right behind Benjamin and lightly closed the door.
There were plenty of places to sit down. The living quarters didn't have much, but it had a good number of chairs. An end table here or there, but that was all. In all, Percival counted five chairs, though one was quickly occupied by the woman.
As if she was worried they'd steal it.
Percival politely dipped his head again, though he already felt his patience fraying as well as his resolve. This was something often handled by Marcus, not him.
"I'm Percival Regimald," he explained, leaving out the peculiar lengthy version of his name. He indicated Benjamin. "This is Benjamin."
Then he jumped right in, only realizing after the woman frowned that this was not the welcome response, "We're hear to talk about the fire. What do you know?"
The woman looked annoyed and didn't respond for a while. "You'll have to be more specific," she finally said gruffly.
Percival felt himself bristling.
Then he glanced at Benjamin and breathed in slowly.
"Would you like to take on the first question?" he said, only just avoiding gritting his teeth.

The woman didn't say anything for a while, even to Benjamin's statement. Though that didn't stop her from watching him, looking over the young boy from the top of his head to what passed for shoes.
Then, since there didn't seem to be any more silence that she could muster, she eventually said, "I wasn't."
Percival blinked. He'd expected that there would be a different answer to that, not whatever he'd just heard. The woman ignored his reaction and seemed to be continuing to talk to Benjamin.
"It was my twelve year old niece. I spent a length of time being completely unaware of what had happened until she came home in the evening."
Percival settled back in his chair, debating the merits of looking puzzled or not. He opted for not letting his expression waver. It seemed like the woman wasn't inclined to really talk to him anyway.
"She had soot on her hands and quite an entertaining story. Do you know what that story might have contained, child?"
Percival thought he could hazard a guess, but from how she was talking, she seemed to be dramatizing a lot of things.

The women seemed distinctly unimpressed by Benjamin's redirect. She clearly wanted to continue with her dramatization of her tale. But after a long moment of glaring at Benjamin, she eventually said, "Yes. Indistinctly though. And it was my niece who saw this happen. She said it was a woman, just a bit taller than scruffy-head's associate." She indicated Percival. "Where is he, anyway? He was much nicer to contact."
Percival could tell that she was thinking, moodily, that Marcus would have let her talk. And he would have, that was true.
This, however, wasn't what he was focusing on. It made his chest tighten, to have Marcus' absence pointed out.
"But we don't know who the woman was," the woman said moodily. "But my niece said that she had blood on her face." She seemed particularly annoyed that she couldn't have made this story more entertaining. Her voice was clipped.
It was hard to say if Percival's lack of response was still over the pain of losing Marcus or if he just wasn't surprised.

"I very much doubt that," said the woman with a bit of a huff. "Considering she is not currently here. She is with her family, and I don't see a way that she will be available for assisting you in any way."
Percival doubted that, even if she had been available, that the woman would have let them see her. She seemed too annoyed. He did wonder whether the old lady had any idea of who she was talking to. He doubted it. Even Benjamin seemed to being aware of his situation. And doubted the niece would have any other information regarding the woman. By the sound of it the niece had been through something, but Percival wasn't sure whether they would be finding that out anytime soon, or if any of the details would ever get to them.
Even still, he found himself curious.
And maybe more than that ... mad. Angry. Furious that this scrap of information was all that he was receiving. That despite everything, they still were no closer to any of this than they had been before.
But he couldn't bring up the energy to comment this. To say this felt ... terribly hollow.

The old woman seemed unwilling to comply. Then eventually said, "She's eight. I can let her mother know that you want to talk to her, but I doubt you'll get far." She once again sounded sniffy and maybe a bit annoyed. At least this time it seemed to be directed at her younger sister and not Benjamin or Percival. "She doesn't have the same appreciation for the press."
And that was where Percival had expected the rub. That this woman's niece was so young. He had no idea how accurate or reliable anything she had to say would be.
And then there was Benjamin of course, but he didn't mention the fact that this niece might well have seen more vampiric details than this woman was telling.
Though from the looks of things, she wanted to tell them.
"I'll get an address to this one if the mother agrees," she said, indicating Percival and still looking a bit annoyed. "Until then, I suppose that's it."

Slowly, Percival pushed himself to his feet. "Thank you," he said softly to the woman. He dipped his head as he did, glancing over at Benjamin briefly before he continued, "We should be going. Making sure that we have all the details recorded. Thank you for the assistance you've provided to the press."
He reached, or rather fumbled, with his business card as he reached out and passed it to her. Then he turned his attention back to his temporary charge again.
"Come on," he said, "we should go."
Which was exactly what he started to do. He headed for the door, without looking back. The old woman seemed disinterested and maybe a bit disappointed. But she didn't call him back. She also ignored Benjamin, apparently done with whatever sort of interaction she expected to get from him.

It was a question which Percival was in no way prepared to answer. It wasn't something which he had the energy or the openness to share. So he simply glanced back at Benjamin briefly. It was like a stab to his chest, if he was honest. It wasn't nice or comfortable or pleasant to experience. It was just knowledge. That the gaping hole in him was gaping for a reason.
"I'm fine," he lied. And it clearly was a lie, but it was also very telling about how much Percival actually wanted to involve Benjamin in his personal heartache. Even if it still directly affected him. There was just not enough in Percival to be willing to do more than this.
"You should go home," he said after a while. "There's probably a lot that you ... need to do. Correct?"
He didn't know. He just was ... tired. He was tired and he wanted to go home.

Benjamin's suggestion was a kind one. Even Percival could see that. But he couldn't seem to help the flicker of frustration that bubbled up, almost escaping like hot air. He wanted to scream. For no particular reason. He just wanted to vent his frustration to the world around him in some way. Any way.
He couldn't. And he didn't.
But it meant he was silent, walking ahead of Benjamin for a very long time.
Slowly though, he spoke, "If you want."
He didn't feel like he could give permission or rejection. He felt too tired for that. But he also didn't want to outright reject company either. Part of him seemed to want it.
So this was the compromise made. As painful as that was.
"I wouldn't say no," he added, with slightly more clarity.

Percival didn't have any food back at his place. But it took a couple seconds for his brain to fully process such information. Instead, he seemed to consider for a very long time. Then said, "Would you go back to ... get food? I don't have what is needed."
If Benjamin's questions caused any problems, it didn't show. Perhaps the extend of his overwhelmed expression was just what should have been expected in this situation. Instead of really considering further, he just kept walking toward the place where he and M - where he stayed.
He wasn't sure about what Benjamin had just said. He wondered if his brother was still involved somehow.
Probably not.
Just a witness that had moved on with his life.

bumping for my sanity.