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Damen plays his hand with Rhys

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A large forest in Central Anaxas, the once-thriving mostly human town of Dorhaven is recovering from a bombing in 2719 at its edge.

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Fri Nov 16, 2018 5:45 pm

34th Yaris, 2718
INVESTIGATIVE OFFICES | MORNING
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It had been quiet since the riots, or rather, as quiet as it could be post bloodshed and massacre. Vienda has been hurt, her very core assulted by the fighting within. She was the omega dog, limping to the corner to lick her wounds and assess her situation. It was as though in the aftermath all the looters and fighters needed their own time to recoup. Healers were kept busy, and the jail held those who needed to be processed correctly. In the downtime, there’d been a few more arrests and a few more discussions between the political heads of Anaxas. But in all, a strange lull like the calm before the storm had settled on Vienda.
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​​A lull that gave time for personal matters to be attended to.
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​​The sound of yelling would have been the first alarm bells, had there been any sense of alarm to have. It started as soon as the morning shift had come in to change guard with the night shift, the sound of an angry, deeper, older man’s voice. It bellowed throughout the Investigative Department like a gunshot, the culprits blackened field raging in the confinement of the building.
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​​ “Valentin!” Captain Damen D’Arthe barked as he stormed through the collection of desks just beyond the foyer, ignoring the other Seventen in the place as he walked. There were some that were still fearful of the man who had drilled them so relentlessly in Numbrey. Others gawked, unable to resist the juiciness of whatever the clock was about to go down.
​​
​​ “Ooh, what do you think the Sergeant did to piss him off?” A young ensign whispered to his offsider, the taller woman grunting and curling her lip in disdain.
​​
​​ “Probably just fucking breathed wrong. Have you even worked under Captain D’Arthe before? He’s a clocking mean ersehole. I’d rather smear myself in entrails and jump in the chrove pens than be in his warpath.” The two Seventen snapped to attention as Damen stormed toward them in full formal uniform, his black and grey hair smoothed back and goatee facial hair crisply trimmed, blue eyes glittering like hard gemstones in his furious face. As he passed them, the young ensigns saluted, before finding some unspoken reason to move at a casual walk in the same direction.
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​​ “Sergeant Valentin, I’ve come to have you placed under arrest for kidnapping of Charity Ann D’Arthe, and indecent activity whilst in the employee of the Seventen.” He growled as he burst through the man’s office door, fixing him with a violently wicked glare. The Captain knew his shifts, and his rotations. There was never any doubt that he wouldn’t find Rhys there, not unless the younger galdor had found a way to hide from him.
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​​ “Where is she?” Damen asked in a low voice that held as much threat and anger as his throbbing field. A vein stood starking against the lightly tanned skin of the Bastian’s temple, and his hand rested on the grip of his baton, as though he barely restrained the urge to beat Rhys to death with it. His blue eyes narrowed at the blonde.
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​​ “Where is my daughter, Valentin? She’s been missing since the riots ended and I have suspicion that you’ve developed a sick infactuation with Charity Ann and have kidnapped her against her will.” His voice raised again, carrying through the open door to the ears of the Sergeants peers on the other side.
​​
​​ “I want you arrested and your home searched.”

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Rhys Valentin
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Fri Nov 16, 2018 9:42 pm

34th of Yaris, 2718
WORK WORK WORK| EARLIER than PREFERRED
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Dawn had barely broken and Rhys had reluctantly slipped away from his bed and snuck into the Seventen Headquarters like some prowling feline. He knew his Constable was the early sort, and sure enough, the older, rounder man was already at his desk, sorting the unbelievable stack of post-riot paperwork that came across their desks. Nothing about their police work was truly glorious, not the blood and gore and not the clocking filing that took place when the action was over.

The Sergeant was technically on medical leave, and so of course his bespectacled friend and long-time partner had objected to his presence so early and so soon. He'd objected even more when the young Valentin set on his desk a folded, bloodied collection of women's clothing and his handwritten notes from two nights prior,

"What the clock is this, Val?"

"Listen, Pots, I need to know I can trust you with these things until later. These are Charity's—"

"Good Lady, what—"

"—I'll explain. Just listen." Rhys sat heavily on the galdor's desk, a wave of vertigo crawling through his mind and he curled fingers around the edge to keep his balance.

"You shouldn't be here."

"I know. I'm going to Elmonton for at least two weeks, but this is important. I'm going to need you to start some warrant paperwork for me and I need you to keep it quiet." They were both so early that their small section of the Investigative Department was still empty, and as the tall blond began to explain everything to his partner, everything about Charity and Captain D'Arthe, the portly man became more and more agitated and concerned. Rhys conveniently left out anything about his personal discoveries toward the end of the riot, but, honestly, he'd probably choose death than truth about that until he saw his decision through.

"...On that paper is a signed physician's assessment. On that paper there is the Captain's schedule. You're going to take Constable Hours and serve the warrant for taking the passive described in there into protective custody. You're going to do it when he's not home. Charity is afraid the young servant is dead. I can't go myself. I'm already involved as it is, obviously—"

"There's going to be accusations. You know how Damen is. You're in for a shitshow, but you have all of us. And you know you have Haines."

"Thank Alioe for that." The Sergeant groaned, patting Pots' desk before sliding to a stand, "I'm going to finish my formal report and then it'll be like I was never here. Keep me posted through scrystone how things go, but today or tomorrow is a good day to make your move with the warrant. I know that she's a passive and it won't hold well in court, but every little word will matter at this point."

"Gods, where am I going to put her if we find her, Val?"

"Clock it all. I don't know. Somewhere in the Dives. Allen will take her in—that old wick won't say no for a few extra coin thrown in."

"True. Fine. This ... this is insane, you know."

"I know."

"You'll end your career if you're wrong."

"I don't clocking care. I really don't. I'll deal with that if the case meets opposition. I think I've got some pretty clocking compelling evidence and living witnesses. This is wrong. All of it. And, fuck, I'm seeing it through, even if it costs me my snaps, Pots." The tall blond waved a weary hand, exasperated growl fading as he made his way to his office, leaving the door open while Potiphar tucked away the evidence and the note before any of their other Seventen trickled in.

He settled into his chair, reading glasses fumbled for out of his uniform coat pocket, attempting to ignore the tinnitus that sang in his ears and the fading dizziness that still haunted him. It had been a torturous walk here from home, and the young Valentin was determined to make the best use of a single house before going home again. He'd just begun the process of filing his formal request for an investigation when murmur rose in the Investigative Office and Rhys knew all to well the familiar footsteps of Co-Captain Damen D'Arthe.

It was too soon, and Rhys frowned, bolstering his field when his name rang out in the main room outside his small office.

Looking up and setting his quill down, the tall blond folded his hands together on top of his decision on paper and waited to firmly meet the bright blue eyes of the ersehat who came storming and blustering into his personal space as if he belonged in it.

Damen snarled accusations as Rhys summoned all he had to stand without wavering, his rise to attention crisp and as perfect as any expected of a Numbrey graduate. That was, however, where all of his ability to maintain the facade ended. As the words kidnapping and indecency left the older man's lips, the Special Enforcement Sergeant barely held in a smile, the edges of his own sharp, blue eyes wrinkling in sardonic humor, and when the Captain had quite finished, the young Valentin held his gaze and laughed.

It was a chuckle at first, just a little hint of the kind of irony that bubbled up in his narrow chest and escaped in a too loud, too inappropriate, too ridiculous noise,

"I'm sorry, Captain—you what now?"

Rhys wheezed, composing himself and resisting the need to put a hand on his desk, dizzy but enduring out of stubborn refusal to show the man any weakness, the sudden weight of Damen's field a reminder of what the tall blond really was.

He glanced beyond the furious man and realized Potiphar was already on his feet, tense and ready just in case things got out of hand. Tilting his head back toward the angry ersehole, the Sergeant cleared his throat, speaking far too loudly for any private conversation. In fact, Rhys had the balls to speak so loudly all of the Investigative Division probably could hear him from his windowless excuse for an office,

"Charity D'Arthe is in protective custody after arriving on my doorstep beaten and bloodied. I'm sorry, I can't tell you her location at this time because she's being protected from you. I have signed statements that it was by your hand, Captain Sir, that she received her injuries. No one has kidnapped the victim—she barely escaped with her life and we both know it."

Unwavering, he continued,

"I'd like to see your warrant for that search as well as my arrest, Captain. Signed and on Haines' desk. I'd also, just for my entertainment, love to hear where this charge of indecent activity comes from, if you don't mind, Sir. The only indecent activity I know of is how shamefully you've treated your only daughter for the past ... oh, gods, what, decade or more?"
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Sat Nov 17, 2018 12:27 am

34th Yaris, 2718
INVESTIGATIVE OFFICES | MORNING
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”You ​​
​​ heard me farmboy.” Damen said darkly, eyes narrowing dangerously as the taller Seventen laughed incredulously. His caprise swivelled briefly to Potiphar, before landing back on Rhys, field flexing with a slant as though warning the old stout man to keep out of it.
​​
​​As the blonde proceeded to lecture the older Captain, the D’Arthe looked at Potiphar and gestured at him.
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​​ “Bare witness Constable, to the lies spewed in his weak defense. You could have easily forged any story you like and forced her signature, my poor daughter held against her will by this desperate obsessed stalker.” Stepping closer, Damen pointed at the accused, his anger paletable.
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​​ “Charity went missing, whilst I was working through the mess of this riot. What possible reason would I have to attack my own child, Valentin? My son, gone. My wife, taken by her own hand. Charity is all I have left, she’s my flesh and blood. My little girl. You’ve got her Sergeant, and I want her back. Why would she go to some old school peer who practically followed her like a banderpup, instead of the Seventen offices if she was in trouble?” Looking him up and down, the man shook his head with a curl of his lip, as though disgusted by the taller man’s questioning.
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​​Boy you have been obsessed with my Charity since you were in Brunnhold. I acted to keep her safe from you, kept her away from your indecency. Rebellious and a poor sorcerer, that’s what your reports said. I thought I had protected her from you. But it seems that even after all these years, you still couldn’t let it go. She told me, to my very face that you’d been bothering her again before she disappeared. A daughter confiding in her father.” At the mention of a warrant, Damen scoffed and shook his head.
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​​ “The arrogance…” Turning around, the Captain pointed at the young ensigns gawking from the doorway.
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​​ “You there. Fetch for High Judge Azmus. Tell him Captain Damen D’Arthe requires his jurisdiction for an internal arrest immediately.” Looking back at Rhys as the ensign’s fell over themselves to get away from the situation—unsure if they should follow his orders or not—the older man let slip a well practiced sob, biting his knuckle before taking a deep stoic breath, complete with crocodile tears glistening in his eyes.
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​​ “I’m so worried about my poor girl. She’s an innocent, and a kind soul. So much like her poor troubled mother. Charity, if she’s even safe, needs to be found and immediately returned to my custody. I’m sure the truth of it all can come from her own lips Valentin. Right now, all we have is your hearsay.” Smoothing his hair, the Bastian frowned and stepped closer again, his fist clenched.
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​​ “I would never harm my only remaining family Sergeant. You’re lying. If, if there was even a grain of truth to your fabricated story, then Charity Ann could tell it herself. My patrol can pick her up immediately and bring her in. I assure you Constable, if Charity Ann is brought in, she will tell the truth of it. If she is even alive.” The Captain grasped at his heart, as though barely able to stand the thought of her being dead.
​​
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Rhys Valentin
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Mon Nov 19, 2018 1:58 pm

34th of Yaris, 2718
WORK WORK WORK| EARLIER than PREFERRED
Farmboy. The detestable Captain Damen D'Arthe was a man of so little change, apparently. Here the boy was very clearly a man, and a man in the same clocking uniform with only one snap less,

"That's Inspector to you. Sir. I'm a well-recognized and decorated officer of the Seventen, not a plantation owner in Brayde County. Perhaps you haven't noticed." Rhys growled his riposte, utterly undaunted by weight of the older man's field. The blond Sergeant didn't even bother to retaliate, his glamour of a field a pool of quiet, calm confidence as Damen attempted to roll him over. Immovable, he held the wicked grin that threatened to crease itself into his sharp features at bay while the furious creature before him rambled. Had he not been so desperate to go about things the so-called right way, the tall blond would have leapt over his desk and tackled the disgusting galdor there in his own office, the heat of pent-up hatred buried for well over a decade crackling like a roaring fire in the cavity of his narrow chest. The young Valentin would have made sure Charity's father's face was far less recognizable than the woman who had showed up bloodied on his doorstep just days ago.

He inhaled sharply, about to interrupt, but Potiphar was faster. He was smirking, the bespectacled galdor staring in amused surprise at the back of the Captain's head, desperate to be intimidated but shocked by the other man's total lack of professionalism ... let alone sanity. Everyone knew Captain D'Arthe, but Pots knew Rhys far better than he cared to admit.

And he had heard enough.

"Stay where you are, Ensigns!"

The Constable cleared his throat, expression becoming deadpan and serious. The confused Ensigns simply scattered from the room, and in the chaos, no one noticed the familiar form of Captain Haines entering the Headquarters downstairs. Potiphar raised with slow emphasis off the surface of his desk the paperwork he'd signed with his partner just moments before, waving them in the space between himself and Damen, his own powerful field suddenly a barrier of resolve and a bastion of legal justice, "I'm sorry, Captain, but you know very well the Investigative Division has legal superiority to even the Patrol Division, as outlined in the Seventen Statute of 2530. Special Enforcement Sergeant Rhys Valentin has already submitted signed testimonies and evidence in your criminal indictment for the abuse of your daughter as well as several other minor charges, which I'm legally and professionally bound to honor above any of your floundering, emotional hearsay and—I hope you're listening, Sir—slander you're throwing around against my superior officer. Sergeant Valentin has no previous record of accusations like the ones you are so loudly slinging here in our honorable Headquarters, nor does he have a single disciplinary mark in his entire file. Yours, however, is a different story. Therefore, I highly recommend that you calm down and—"

"—and get the clock out of my Sergeant's office."

The loud voice of Captain Arthur Haines rang out from the doorway of the Investigative Division offices, his field bristling and his eyes fixated on Damen like a hatcher ready to strike. He hid his tiredness behind a very curt expression of disappointment, "From the looks of things, you don't have a single shred of evidence to be slinging these ridiculous accusations at the exemplary Inspector, Special Enforcement Sergeant Valentin, no matter what your personal vendetta for the young man may be outside of Seventen affairs. Damen, honestly. Constable Potiphar has a handful of signed documents and you're here with your loud voice and your idle threats. Step down, Captain, before I have you forcibly removed. Valentin—"

His gaze swept to the tall blond who was wavering on his feet, the one hand that had slipped to his chair white-knuckled with the sheer force with which he gripped it in desperation to stay upright and keep himself from causing Charity's father harm. Which was more necessary at the moment? Even Rhys couldn't tell, but his ears rang and his vision blurred, and it took him a moment to focus on Captain Haine's face.

"—explain yourself. You are on medical leave. I will happily escort your erse out of Headquarters right alongside this blow-hard."

"I'm sorry, Captain." He exhaled, shoulders sinking, refusing to entirely reveal the extent of his current state of weakness in front of Damen. His free hand reached up and ran over his face, palm rubbing over his chin and well-carved cheekbones before raking fingers through his hair, "This was an urgent matter that couldn't wait until after the agreed term of my leave. I have placed Charity D'Arthe under protective custody and issued a restraining order after she arrived on my doorstep, bloodied and beaten, on the 32nd of Yaris. She has claimed to have been kept safe during all of the riot violence and proceeded to accuse her father," Rhys let his gaze flick threateningly toward Damen before returning to Arthur and continuing as if the furious older galdor in front of his desk didn't even clocking exist, "of the attack on her person. She is quite convinced he would have either intentionally or unintentionally killed her for asking about my personal safety during the riots, which prompted this current, but not first, attack on her person at his hands. She has agreed to testify in court provided she is given all the appropriate protection."

The tall blond was painfully aware that his apartment above a dsoh shop was hardly protective custody, but no one in this room at this moment needed to know that. Just like no one in this room at this moment needed to know he wasn't even a galdor.

He tilted his chin at his Constable, "Pots has everything. Captain D'Arthe doesn't even have a warrant and his accusations are entirely unfounded—I have never once coerced Miss D'Arthe to spend a moment of her time with me unwillingly, unlike the Captain here who has spent his lifetime doing the opposite. If you wish to see an example of my care for Charity, please see the incident report on file from the night of Roalis 14th. I can direct you to that later. Regardless, I can also verify Charity is alive and well, but I will not disclose any location in Captain D'Arthe's presence in order to honor the restraining order. I also highly recommend that her and her father should not be allowed in the same room without several witnesses until a final verdict has been reached in court regarding his innocence."

If the young Valentin could have made any choice faces or hand expressions at the disgusting excuse of a Seventen who was now very much smoldering in unholy anger in his office, he would have.

Captain Haines weathered the responses with an air of calm that only a father of a young child could ever exemplify, finally holding up a hand in order to quiet the angry Bastian and reaching for the papers in Potiphar's barely trembling fingers with his other hand. He glanced over them all in utter silence, completely willing to ignore any rage tossed in his direction by the accused who stood in the presence of three other men in uniform who were not at all on his side despite the number of snaps on his uniform or his impressive record of service.

Finally, Arthur looked up at Damen carefully and smiled the most facetious of smiles, "Well, Captain D'Arthe, would you care to walk with me to the Courthouse in order to see High Judge Arazmus himself now? Allow me to read the terms of the restraining order and all of the charges leveled against you while we do. Unless, of course, you'd rather continue to falsely accuse another member of the Seventen in the company of witnesses?"
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Mon Nov 26, 2018 6:20 am

34th Yaris, 2718
INVESTIGATIVE OFFICES | MORNING
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Damen turned his glittering Bastian gaze on the Constable as he belayed the man’s order, his field stained red should one have the ability to sense such things. He raised a hand to his temple, sighing heavily and stroking the side of his head with exasperation as the portly man waved his paper work like a shield and flexed his own field.

“Sergeant Valentin has submitted forgeries to cover his own ass whilst he holds my daughter captive, which you are legally and professionally bound to—“ The Captain spoke over the top of Potiphar, loudly and rudely, his blustering cut short by the sharp snap of Haines voice over all. He turned, facing the other Captain with narrowed eyes and a deep frown.

“My evidence is being held captive by your Sergeant, and all you care about is a scrap of scribble that no one person in this room can verify, except for the very man that gave it to you!” The anger galdor made a sound of shock and disgust as Haines dismissed him to speak to Rhys directly, smoothing a hand over his sash and shaking his head. Snapping his gaze back to the taller Seventen, Damen seethed, his hatred and rage bleeding through his entire being as the blonde continued his accusation. Murderous anger pumped through his veins, and his hand twitched, all pretences of sadness completely gone.

Tearing his steely blue eyes from Rhys, Captain D’Arthe scowled at the smiling co-Captain, his face slightly darker than before and the vein in his temple visibly throbbing.

“That is not necessary, I will see myself out, but I’ll be back. She is my daughter, and I will have her home. Your Sergeant can only hide behind you for so long Captain. I will be speaking with the High Judge, and seeking his council for a lawyer. Till then, have your papers and your flights of fancy. Charity would never speak against her father. Do your own homework, tell me it’s not true that this farmboy wasn’t obsessed with her in school. Tell me you’re not the slightest bit curious why he broke all standard procedures and kept her held instead of bringing her in? I know of no incident on the 14th, except that Charity did not return home till the morning. Where is the investigation there? Why does this man have an incident report that not even her father is aware of? Can you blame me for reacting? He has my only child Haines, and I will have her back.” Pointing at the younger man, Damen flexed his field heavily, burning with barely restrained volatility. And something else.

A mild touch of panic.

“This isn’t over. You’re a coward and a criminal, but I guess I’ll need my own paperwork for this fight, no matter how forged it seems. Inspector or not, you’re still a come-from-nowhere farmboy with far to big an ego, desperate to be more than you are. Charity can do far better than you, and I intend for her to have better.” Straightening, smoothing a hand through his hair, the Captain clasped his hands behind his back and nodded at Haines.

“I’ll leave you to your ramshackle den of lies and sympathy snaps. But I will return, you’ve not won this. Not yet. Not by a long shot.” He stormed past the man, chin high, blue eyes just daring someone to engage him as he left the building.

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