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Martha hung her head in dismay. Taking care to massage David's feet, she stays silent for a while.
The lady on the bike. She bit her bottom lip.
Nodding to offer her understanding to Emma.
"Doctor, do you think your assailant will seek to attack anyone else? Did she leave any clues at all about her intentions or destination? Is there anything you can offer to help identify her?" Martha asks with careful calm. Keeping her dainty fingers massaging David's feet and her eyes on Emma.
“The woman was searching for something,” David whispers while his gaze searches the middle-distance, “something Aοleen had.” Pacing in his thoughts he puts himself on trial for his actions and his in-actions. Should he have used more of his reserves? Each thing he did comes under the harsh scrutiny of hindsight.
David's gaze snaps suddenly to Dillon Connery , “Please. I failed her. I can't live in this world without her.” His posture asks for death, a verdict that he believes the Reeve would agree with: David failed her, was ultimately unworthy of her, and should also die.
The Shadow's attention droops and makes a dismayed utter, “Someone should tell Michael.”
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Emma felt so bad for the sensitive David. He was such a sweet and loyal man. Emma rubbed her shoulder which was already feeling better from the shower. "Well, let me see, " Emma closed her eyes to visualize the scene. "She had long light brown hair. Really pretty hair that I could almost grasp.Her face was really pretty, like model pretty in a smoldering way. I would recognize the smile if I ever saw it again. It was a smug bitchy I'm better than you smile.She wore leather, a lot of leather and carried a big gun in her lap. And she was fast. Freaky fast. Slight build. Her motor cycle was fast too. I think it was black because I don't remember much about it except it was able to dip really low sideways so was probably a small racing cycle." Emma opened her eyes. "That's all I can remember about her. The herd torched the warehouse so I couldn't go back and find clues."
ST Note: The assassin had her helmet on by the time Emma and David saw her, and thus they never saw her face.
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Dillon tries to shake himself out of his funk, as Martha reminds of a very real possibility of present danger. He immediately strides back to the door and peers out into the night. Scowling, actually, at any invisible enemy that might be lurking. But he quickly puts two and two together.
"Did you two walk back?" he asks, as he rejoins them. The suggestion that he would have come and picked them up if something happened to the car dies in his throat. Now is really not the time, and it's also a statement he can't make with confidence.
As much as he enjoyed Aοleen, and wished to avenge her, and generally thwart any foe of the Domain, David's plea reminds him exactly of why he's here right now as it is.
Martha's here. And Martha had been in danger.
Worse, Martha had been hurt, by a disgrace of Dillon's own blood.
"You must survive, Mister Regan," he says simply. "Someone must remember the time you had together. It's the only thing you can do for her, now."
Well, we.
As he begins to form a more complete picture of the nights events, the Reeve wonders aloud, in a soberly questioning tone, "What could Aοleen possibly have had on her person that was worth destroying her over?"
He looks around, clearly expanding the question to anyone that may be able to shed light on the answer.
But Dillon can't watch Martha for too long. Not right now. He has to keep his mind on things that are happening.
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The young Kacey, much quieter than earlier in the night, returns shortly with many towels, and another set of scrubs. There is enough piled in her arms that only from the bridge of her nose and up is visible over the armload. This, she sits down to deposit within easy reach of Martha. She also remains nearby in a silent offer of aid.
There are too many raw emotions bouncing around too many Kindred far more powerful than she, for her taste. Until she is again provided something to busy herself with, she remains right in the floor by the edge of the couch containing the mourning David. She studies her own bare toes, rather than look any of the gathered vampires in the eye.
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"Thank you, Doctor." Martha nods to confirm her thanks to Emma for her insight.
Then Martha smiles to reassure Kacey as the clothes and towels are brought in. With a gentle nod, she invites Kacey to kneel at her side as she massages the David's feet.
"Thank you, Kacey." Martha smiles sweetly, "Kneel by my side, please, Miss. Let us do what we can to comfort our dear friend, David."
Sure, the night was becoming dangerous and strange, but manners cost nothing.
As Dillon spoke and raised sensible questions, Martha nodded and tried to think what she knew about Aileen's habits.
To spare David the torment of hearing her suggestion, Martha attempts - with careful concentration - to transmit her thoughts to Dillon directly;
"It cannot have been simple abstract knowledge her attacker wanted. That could be obtained by torture or more subtle supernatural coercion. Perhaps Aileen had custody of the keys to a secret lock, a weapon or a map?"
-1 Willpower to breach Dillon's supernatural mind
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(Two rolls, because I accidentally hit enter or something at the wrong time)
Unfortunately, Martha's message bounces right off of Dillon's psyche; his stubborn mind momentarily impenetrable. This probably only becomes obvious to her when he glances around suddenly, as though looking for the source of whatever just tried to push its way in. While it's been done to him before, and by her, without hearing the voice in his head, it's impossible to attribute any identity to it at all.
Martha? David? Can Emma even do such a thing? The meek, cowering little Kacey that is trying not to be noticed in the floor nearby?
Hazel eyes check to see if the angle on any windows allow for a view of him from an advantageous position. Then, for whatever reason, they glance straight up. It might sound stupid, but no one ever looks straight up. Probably why signs in convenience stores go largely unnoticed.
None of this is terribly overt. The Gangrel Reeve doesn't tense up and cock back a fist suddenly, like he's about to loosen someone's molars, or anything. One would probably have to be directly watching him to even spot it. He manages to make it look fairly casual, at any rate. Despite a few distinct flexes of his jaw.
Dillon's question was not a rhetorical one. But he will allow it remain that way, for the moment. As no one seems ready to contemplate such things, just yet.
"While we're here," he says quietly to Emma, a comforting hand settling on her shoulder. "Might as well show me Francesco."
Louder then, he offers generally to everyone else, "We should have a memorial for Aileen. The Chapel of Moore House will be open for it, if no one thinks it inappropriate.
"You're under no obligation to accept, I mean. I'd just... like to do what I can."
He adds the last part as an afterthought, more directly to David. Dillon will observe whatever custom the survivor is most comfortable with.
Dillon's eyes fall questioningly on Martha, seeking an answer to the unspoken issue of what had just happened.
Succeeding in a contested resistance automatically alerts Dillon to the attempt at a Discipline use against his mind, but he has no way of knowing from whom it originated.
A depression as deep and as dark as the void itself, threatens to overwhelm David. Dillon's decline of David's request makes the man slump, unable to support his own weight. The decline is a punch to the gut, forcing the Mortician to face the truth that Aοleen and he have well and truly been parted. David is once again that lonely little boy who stood at his father's side at their funeral home with eyes that shone with too much knowledge. Knowing what it is that he's lost, having felt it for the first time, makes David's gloom heavier.
“Too soon,” David breathes to himself. “Why?”
Why, indeed? Why her? Why them? Why now? Why couldn't it have been him instead?
Dillon's proposal is met only with a weak, almost absent nod.
David's surrender to his despair is nigh absolute. “Forgive me Aοleen, please,” the Shadow pleads in fitful, sorrowful whispers.
The coming nightmares of the Daysleep, will be a cold-comfort.
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If they were alone Emma would have used some of psychology tricks to pull David out of his depression. But she was afraid the harshness she would need to take with him would be seen as not the kit really was. So she allowed him for now to continue in his downward spiral. For now at least. Kacey was being strong and would continue to do so, Emma would make sure of it because there was too much to do now. Martha seemed to be healing well. Emma then looked at Dillon. She watched him look around at them all. At his request to see Francesco her mind went on alert. What was he going to do to Francesco? She knew he was raging deep inside and was afraid of what that would look like when he saw the raw meat of Francesco. Steeling herself for what was to come she responded. "If you folks don't mind excusing us for a moment?" She smiled feebly at Martha, David, and Kacey. She walks to the door of the storage room and waits for Dillon. Before opening the drawer she has a few things to discuss with him.
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Martha nods and seems to agree to Emma's request. Struggling to her feet, Martha offers to take Kacey by the hand and lead her way too.
Yet, a lingering suspicion remains.
There's no guarantee that this is Emma.
Nodding once more, Martha takes Kacey by the hand and leads her from the room to leave Emma alone.
Once outside the door and alone with Dillon and Kacey, Martha asks in hushed, if urgent, whispers;
"Good and noble Reeve, please... We have a murderer to catch."
"What teams and Kindred can we mobilize to track Aileen's killer down? We cannot allow her to escape and remain a threat to others in the Domain! Goodness knows who she might try to strike at next!" Martha makes sure to keep hold of Kacey's hand.
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