multiversallogs | Interlude: Militiavisits by Candlelight

Who: The staff and residents of the Valhalla Inn with a special guest appearance by the Militia.
What: A lock-down. A shake-down. Some questions.
Where: The Valhalla Inn. Different locations will be designated by different subthreads.
When: Early Coardi morning and into the afternoon.
Notes: OOC Discussion
Warnings: None yet, but expect (subtle) threats, coercion, and general jackboot'n'blackbag shenanigans.

Rumour travels fast in Baedal; soon everyone in Mog Hill and beyond will know that the Militia are at the Valhalla Inn and no one is getting out. Official word is that this is strictly routine; protocol dictates Arrival Houses be locked down for evaluation after a City-wide crisis. It's still early morning. Outside, the sun is rising after a night of gentle rain. Birds sing and gorge themselves on dead monkeys yet to be cleared away. It's going to be a beautiful day.

Meanwhile, inside Valhalla, the Militia have firmly requested that every guest, every employee and every incidental visitor gather in the Common Room as they search the rest of the Inn. The proprietor and her staff are visibly unhappy about the event, but the closest they have come to voicing dissent is managing to call for the Sheriff. Still, so far the gentleman who seems to be in charge of the proceedings has been nothing but curtly polite. The Militia works fast; they have gone through the whole place in less than an hour and are now, as they say, ready to take interviews. These will be conducted one-on-one in a different room of the Inn. Most individuals who arrived after the creature invasion are sorted out and escorted outside of the building. Some, however, are not.

None of the Special's agents or their more thuggish companions say so, at least not out in the Common Room, but it is evident that their search turned up something.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Precious. The Agent may in fact be a little bit impressed with Raylan's self-control or maybe that's just affectation.

"To you I have no doubt it is a figure of some authority; someone who enjoys the support of a more or less functional system. Am I to infer you to be an officer of law?"

"Specialized, but yeah. We protect magistrates, hunt down fugitives. That kind of thing." 'Law enforcement' was probably good enough.

Powell inclines his head. If he is pleased with his guesswork it doesn't show.

"I see. It is not uncommon for newcomer lawmen to take issue with how the Militia operates, but I trust this will not be the case with you, marshal." Beat. "We are in fact right now in the process of hunting down fugitives. Suspects, I should say. Likely key-figures in the troubles we have faced. If I show you their faces, would you be willing to test your skills on foreign soil?"

"You deputizing me?" Raylan's skeptical; it stinks to him of giving him some distraction to keep him in line, which is one thing coming from his boss at a job he volunteered for, but another from the milita of a place he isn't at all sure he trusts. "Or do I just whistle if I see 'em?"

"Would you prefer it if we did?" The Agent seems completely neutral on the issue, more interested perhaps in what Raylan has to say than in the possibility of actually following through on it. Still, it might be interesting.

"Meanin' no disrespect to the militia or your city, I don't plan to be here that long." Just because other people haven't found a way out yet doesn't mean they won't. "Mind if I ask what reasons others have given for objecting?"

Nothing much happens in the room for few seconds. Perhaps Powell expects Raylan to say something else, or perhaps he needs some time to add one to the tally of the truly shocking number of people who say they will be the ones to leave.

"What makes you think they have?" Nothing changes in the Agents face or posture to imply that he has any feelings at all on the matter. "In all honesty marshal, I fear I have given you the run-around; the Militia does not deputize, the Sheriffs do."

"Rendering aid to the Militia is considered a civic duty, but if you'd rather refuse then we'll make a note of it and send you on your way."

"You're the one who said newcomer lawmen have problems with how it runs." He's cautious, now, on thin ice and trying to figure out what's best to do. "I ain't gonna hinder your investigation, but there's a difference between given the militia a tip and 'testing my skill,' specially if you can't deputize anyone."

"There is a difference between cannot and does not, marshal. A difference to which you may well wish to pay attention, regardless of how long you intend to remain a Citizen." Powell has all the dryness of a bored bureaucrat, clearly this interview is over as far as he is concerned. Still. Another one of those quiet moments go by and then he brings up a folder, unclasping the binders.

"I know you won't hinder our investigation. You're hardly in a position to do so." He pulls some papers out of the binder, and puts them on the table. Somewhere in there is what looks like a worn pamphlet. The words "Induce and Just--..." are barely visible before the thing gets shuffled again. "Here is what we will do; I will show you two pictures, each containing a face of a person of interest. I doubt you will have seen either individual, but if later you do, it would be prudent to contact your closest Sheriff's Office."

The pictures are not very impressive; one is of a woman (http://cdn2.wn.com/vp/i/47/69baba9e998ea0.jpg) somewhere in her late fifties or early sixties, and the other contains a group of men (all human, most enjoying themselves). One (http://cynicritics.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/magnolia-176.jpg) of these men have a red circle drawn around them.

Raylan's best, possibly only, course is to keep his mouth shut, which he manages. (Just.) He studies both pictures, though, and finally nods. "Ain't seen either yet, like you say. But I'll let the sheriff know if I do."

See? Playing ball.

Interlude: Militiavisits by Candlelight

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