(121-03-13) Family of a Feather
Family of a Feather
Summary: The members of the Cockshaw family in Oldtown discuss what has occurred and what they might do.
Date: 13/03/2014
Related: Of Blood and Sand
Players:
Viggo..Kevyn..Alys..

The afternoon draws late and the city quiets their calls for blood. Viggo hears little of it, his quill a constant scratch across parchment as he pens letter after letter. Whether or not he has slept is greatly debateble as he sits at a desk at the Quill & Tankard. His breaks have been for food or water, maybe a piss. Little else has stirred him from his task. The letters are too important to leave off to a scribe and he steadies his hand with care. The lords of the Reach and their titles mark the heads of his letters, after all.

Kevyn looks no more rested than Viggo. Though he doesn't have to write anything coherent, so it probably matters less. He went down to the common room to get some food from the kitchens for his knight and himself, though, and he's returning from doing that, carrying a platter of it. He knocks on the door, but enters before waiting for leave to do so. "There was bread and cheese being served, Ser. And fish. I think it's fresh. Fresh enough, anyhow."

Alys has so far, largely left the diplomancy to Viggo. Since their return she's checked back in at the watch tower and ever grabbed some sleep but now she's back at the Quill and tankard looking for her cousins. Not in her harness of plate, nor the standard lady-fare of a dress, she pushes her way in decked out in breaches and padded jerkin, ready for a shift later and really not caring as to the looks she's got in the streets. Following Kevyn up the stairs she also knocks then enters withour pause and offers a grim "cousins."

God those are words that were never before spoken before this ordeal. Leave the diplomacy to Viggo. "If it's dead its a start," Viggo offers, exhaustion colouring his words. "If not the cheese will be." Dead. Cheese isn't dead, Viggo. If nothing else he has made an effort to bathe off the trail sweat and redress. He was probably starting to smell. "Cousin," he bids Alys.

"Cheese isn't…" Kevyn starts, then stops himself. He takes a slice of it, and a bit of bread, and goes to sink into a chair. He looks up at Alys, in her breeches, but if he's tempted to comment he doesn't just now. He eyes Viggo at the desk and asks, "How many have you left to send?"

Alys closes the door behind her, nodding briefly to Kevyan before turning her main attention to Viggo. "I don't have long I'm afraid cousin," she states regretfully, "so forgive me if I'm blunt in asking this. The missing woman, are there any leads?"

"Just a few." Dropping his quill on its blotting cloth, Viggo lifts his ink-smeared hand to wipe at his tired eyes. It leaves a line of black ink across his brow. "Oh, other than the fact that my brother was likely fucking her…very few. We do not know if she went willinging or elsewise. My goodsister ought to confirm if the lady was expected, I have sent them a raven."

Kevyn shrugs and nods, when Viggo states what his brother was likely doing with the woman who was his 'honored guest.' "Might've been that she was just at the place at the wrong time. If she was a noble, perhaps she was taken hostage? Perhaps there'll be ransom demands?" He sounds oddly hopeful about such a thing. But he likely imagines it's a nicer fate than the others that might've befallen her. He nibbles on his bread, looking over at Alys. "Do you think things in the city'll be…I mean…do you think it'll be bad in the streets?"

Such Alys had suspected, but with Viggo confirming that he suspects the same Alys merely nods quickly, grimicing just a little at the same time. Kevyn gets a glance and she shakes her head slowly, "we'd've heard by now I think. Either she was with them ad let them in, or she is taken for whatever perverted means they may have. No one yet has claimed her as missing though, so I suspect the former." Hmm, grim. As for the rest, that gives her pause to think for a few moments before she shrugs. "Honestly? I don't know. It'll depend on what the Dornish do, what the Lord Hightower do, what the Tyrells do mixed in with a big dollop of unpredictable populace. I haven't been here long enough to predict."

"I know no whore to wear so fine of earrings." Viggo nods towards where it sits at the side accompanied by the Dornish blade. These they brought back with them. "There may be. It is still a ways to the border, were she here for some legitimate purpose…they may not even know. Yet. The former seems more likely though." Inky fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as Kevyn and Alys debate the state of the city. "They were ready for blood. Much as I am. Although it seemed there was doube in the crowd. The Hightower, Ser Brynden said he would ride with us."

"Aye, Ser Brynden seems a good man," Kevyn says. Any who said they'd ride with the Cockshaws is probably counted as that, to the lad's view. "His kin was a squire among those killed. Surely the rest of the Hightowers will want justice, too." He tries to sound confident about this. To Alys, "Are you sure you should be out with the city like this, cousin? It's not safe."

"I'm glad to hear that," Alys replies as Viggo notes Ser Brynden's words. She does briefly glance toward sthe ear-ring and sword, but then her focus is back on Viggo and Kevyn. "Yes cousin, I am sure. It is my duty and I will not sherk from it. Captain Dunn is a good man though, I strongly suspect that I will not find myself standing guard outside their manse. Officer on watch in the tower, or on a gate perhaps, but not close to the Dornish." She's half torn as to if that's a good thing or not, but it is certainly the sensible thing so far as the rule of law goes. Eyeing the letters on the table she then asks, "are you canvassing for support in general cousin, or is there a plan? I might not be a knight, but I know how to wield a sword…"

"Really, it's wise of him. If they do come to an untimely end in the city's care it will not be leveled on another noble house." The edge of Viggo's smile is wan at best. There is not enough left in him to be amused. "She has the right color of skin and can carry a blade, lad. Our dear Alys is in a better place than most. And she'll hear all that we do not." Stretching, he reaches to take a bit of cheese from the dinner platter and chews without tasting it as he considers her words. "Support and notification. We know we will not be the first of the houses, merely the example. Pray the others know it as well with some false idea of peace. The more ears that hear our story, the truer it can ring." The nobler their cause.

Kevyn nods, albeit reluctantly. "All right. Tell us if you have any trouble, though, cousin. You've my protection." She could probably wallop him, if it ever came to a contest of blades, but he means well. He eats at some more of his bread and cheese. Not with any enthusiasm, but as if he's intellectually aware that eating is a good idea. "I should write my father, I suppose. I mean, I'm sure he knows what's happened by now but…I should write him. I suppose."

Alys moves to help herself to a hunk of bread and cheese as well before nodding to Viggo's answer. "I'll keep my ears open, and the men will too. Anything of note you'll hear, as with that other matter. I'll speak with those who do have that guard duty, see if they note anything odd." Casting her eyes about briefly for a drink she then eyes Kevyn for a moment as he sayshis peace before doing her best to offer a pseudo-reassuring, "thank you cousin, I'll keep that in mind." Not that she means that as he ays it mind, more she'll be keeping an eye out for him, but he's so young and keen, it'd be a shame to bring him down.

Viggo's offering is less valliant than his squire's, moustache curled in a crooked smile. "Mine as well," he promises. "Seems the city's mood is fitting if nothing else, ready to stamp out the blackhearted roaches were they lurk. Although, for what little their word is worth I do believe when they say their queen had not ordered it. It was not the grand scale of a country seeking blood." He grits his teeth, cube of cheese becoming squashed in his hand. "They might be more present with a little fire."

"They have to pay for what's been done," Kevyn mutters. With feeling, albeit without the heat of Viggo. He's more tired than anything else. He sinks furthe into his chair, resting his eyes for a moment. Just a moment. He's not falling asleep. Really and truly…

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