(no subject)

[icy-hot-touches.livejournal.com]

Who: Snow Villiers and Judge Ralse, the Rogue Judge of Rabanastre
What: Handling some bad elements.
When: Present.
Where: Rabanastre, Lowtown
Interaction: Open to people in Rabanastre
Warnings: Death~!



Snow raked his fingers through his hair, frowning behind his half-mask of a gorget, as he sat crouched above the rafters in a little shack in Lowtown. He was listening in on a conversation about Queen Ashelia, and her husband. Of course, he wasn't there as Snow Villiers, no, he couldn't do what needed to be done as Snow Villiers, because Snow could be put to the whips, or worse, for taking action outside Dalmascan law. But he loved Dalmasca as surely as he loved Ashelia, and certainly he understood that she was happy with Rasler. His love for her wasn't the type of selfish feeling that would drive him to madness with her in the arms of another, no, he truly did love her, and was willing to let her go just to see her happy. But to maintain that happiness, he had to do something about these disruptive elements that would steal them away.

Like these men and women below him, who were plotting not only to steal into the Palace and ransack the treasury, but they were also rife with bold assertions about what they would do to those inside. Put down for too long by Dalmascan rule, some were muttering, obvious foreigners. Regardless of race, creed, or gender, Snow saw them all as threats to what mattered most to him, and so he would handle it before such things ever darkened Dalmasca's doorstep, or bothered it's Queen.

He'd come up with a new persona, dubbing himself Judge Ralse, and had handled such situations as this in the recent past. Taking up residence in Lowtown was easy enough, he was a well-known and popular person there, though many people asked him why he wasn't trying to win Ashelia back. His answer was always the same, "She's happy, and that's what matters." indeed, he was quite gratified by this. His informants from within the Palace agreed that with Rasler back in her life, the Queen was her glowing, vibrant self. Certainly, Snow had been happy to be at her side, but that part of his life was over.. he wasn't abandoning Dalmasca, though, he needed to watch over it. He'd taken the name for his persona from an opera he had become fond of, from a distant place called "The Gestahlian Empire", and was called either "The Dream Oath" or "Maria and Draco". Snow found the opera charming, and often hummed the tune to an aria performed during the show.

A simple magick he'd learned also allowed him to summon his armor onto his person and dismiss it as well, so that he was easily able to switch between being Snow Villiers and Judge Ralse, and so was able to indirectly influence what he would be able to truthfully say. The conversation was reaching a close, though, so Snow readied himself, and dropped into the room behind the leader, a Bangaa man with a wiry build. Everyone's eyes widened at the intrustion, though the leader never stood a chance. Rimed in frost, Judge Ralse's gauntleted hand closed on the lizardman's throat, and though he kicked but once, Snow's powers leeched all warmth from his body, stopping his heart and killing him in an instant. The man released the Bangaa, who fell to one side, and shattered when he hit the floor. Someone screamed, Snow smirked. "You have been Judged." cliche, certainly, but effective. The windows were boarded, and a blast of cold from Snow froze the door on it's hinges, leaving the rest to his tender mercies.

Later that day, Snow looked shocked at the news he was hearing. A gossipy woman named Else was telling him about a group of people found that morning, apparantly killed in the night. "That's just terrible.. and in Lowtown?" the woman nodded at Snow's question, and replied, "And they're not the first, nosiree. Someone's out killin' every night this week, but it ain't been decent folk like you and me, Snow. Someone's yankin' the rotten teeth out of Lowtown, one by one. Francis was tellin' me this mornin' that people are callin' him the Rogue Judge of Rabanastre! Can you imagine? Rabanastre never had Judges."

Snow smiled, and patted the woman's shoulder reassuringly, "Don't worry, Else. It's like you said, decent people like you and I aren't the targets. Perhaps if this continues, Rabanastre will be a safer place for everyone." the woman smiled at him, wondering again why Snow had deigned to step out of the Palace and live in Lowtown. "You get on home to Francis now, Else, and say hello for me would you? The wall he helped me with is holding up very nicely."

As she walked off, Snow smiled pleasantly. Judge Ralse, the Rogue Judge of Rabanastre. Yes, that certainly had a nice ring to it. It was a mouthful to be sure, but it inspired dread. And that's what Snow wanted. Humming the tune to the aria, he walked off towards the market, intent on some bread for his evening meal.

Comments

[ordinarydoctor.livejournal.com]

The murders were all that anyone seemed to be able to talk about. Citan had heard of the newest from no less than three separate patients today, and a fourth time from the grocer, and with each retelling the story was either embellished or outright changed depending on how much the individual knew. So far the victims had been set on fire, dismembered, skinned, found half-frozen in melting ice, and, according to one particularly vociferous child, eaten. The amount of conflicting information didn't surprise him; the average person loves to gossip, even (especially) about something as frightening and thrillingly taboo as murder, and whatever details are lacking will be filled in by imagination and wild conjecture. There was only one common thread in all the versions he'd heard--this killer, whom they'd started to refer to as "the Judge," was targeting the rotten underbelly of the city. Some of the citizens seemed to think that it was a good thing, vigilante justice in action, and good riddance to bad rubbish. Others were worried.

Citan was...concerned. He knew all too well that not one of us could easily translate into undesirable, and he had little in the way of a reputation beyond "that doctor who's not from around here." Some prudence wouldn't be uncalled for, given the circumstances.

He knew the owner of a little smithery--the man had terrible allergies and came by every fortnight or so to stock up on decongestants. He was happy to offer a discount on his weapons in exchange for the promise of a week's supply, although he was quite startled that gentle Doctor Uzuki wanted a sword. He watched nervously as Citan left the shop, his arms laden with bags of groceries and a new katana at his belt.

"You going to be okay, doc? Don't drop it on your foot or anything."

Citan smiled brightly at him, already starting to juggle the bags so that he could get at the doorknob. "I will be fine! Do not worry--ah, thank you--" he added as the blacksmith opened it for him. He stepped outside--

And a young Bangaa smacked into him, shouldered past, and kept on running to who knows where as one of the bags flew from his grasp. He lunged after it, but gravity was slightly faster than he was. It hit the ground with a crack and he winced, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his now-free hand.

"Well, there go the eggs and the vegetables," he sighed to nobody in particular, staring at what would have been tomorrow's breakfast as it spilled messily out onto the street.

[judgeronsenburg.livejournal.com]

It had been roughly half an hour since Basch had arrived in Rabanastre via airship. Being a Judge Magister, he had little trouble getting through standard Airship security. he was on official business after all. Since he had arrived much earlier than expected, so naturally he had began making his way to Migelo's shop in the marketplace to catch up with the shop keeper as well as learn where Penelo and Vaan would be. After that, it would be off to the castle. He would of course be representing Archadia's attendance for the public announcement of King Rasler's return. So far the only ones with that knowledge where Larsa, himself, and those Rasler trusted most within the royal castle in Rabanastre. He wondered how affected Queen Ashe is and what she was going through.

However, his thoughts were driven from his mind when he saw a young red scaled bangaa running in his direction after having just bumped into a decent seeming fellow overladen with bags of purchased goods.

He reached out, a firm gauntleted hand stopped the bangaa in his tracks and his other went to rest on the hilt of his sword should any trouble arise. "Hold." he said through the mask like helmet. He made his way over to the bespectacled man half dragging the bangaa with him. Others in the marketplace had paused in their bustle to watch the proceedings. "I believe an apology is in order." Gabranth said as they stopped just short of the damaged groceries and Citan.

Looking harassed and a bit embarrassed, the juvenile bangaa gave a quick, simple. "I should have been more careful. I'm sorry." without ever meeting Citan's eyes.

Satisfied, Gabranth let go of his shoulder to which the bangaa walked away, but hurried into a sprint after making a fair distance away. Probably assuming that Basch would be unable to give chase in the full plate armor he wore along with his heavy two handed sword and cape that bared the Judge's symbol.

Dismissing it as a minor nuisance, he turned to look at Citan. "Apologies. I would have asked that he reimburse you, but I doubt he had much money. If any." Extending his hand, now that Citan's was free, he said "I am Judge Gabranth. I'd offer to help you, but it seems your burden has already been lifted."

It was by chance, but over the man's shoulder, he thought he saw a very familiar face. But he didn't want to seem rude and address Snow while making introductions. After all, he represented another kingdom now, best to on form.

[icy-hot-touches.livejournal.com]

Snow had noticed the katana-bearing man get bumped by that Bangaa boy, smiling softly when the Judge stopped the child, pulling an apology from him by sheer presence. The Judges were universally feared, simply as arbiters of the law of the kingdom, and Grabranth was especially eyebrow raising. Snow knew he was, in fact, Basch, a trusted friend of Queen Ashelia's, and since their prior engagement, a friend of his own. He had been there when Snow had scaled Mount Bur-Omisace to retrieve the crystal he had had made into a necklace for the Queen. His smile never faltered even at those memories, when he walked up to stand beside the pair, nodding, "Judge Gabranth, what a pleasure it is to see you out and about."

When Gabranth mentioned reimbursing the man, Snow nodded, "Indeed, we cannot allow such carelessness to affect you overly. That boy was one of many running the streets of Lowtown, and, since I've taken up residence there, I find myself in the precarious position of their patriarch, of sorts." indeed, he had spoken long to Ashelia about adopting the Lowtown orphans as their own, and hadn't abandoned his feelings towards the children, "As such, I would like to replace what was ruined." indeed, his speech remained as refined as it had become, an indelible mark that Snow Villiers had changed from the rough-and-tumble Blitzball ace he had been when he had met Ashe.

"I was on my way to the market to buy some bread, perhaps we could walk and talk, if it isn't too far out of your way, Sir.." he trailed off, providing an excellent opportunity for Citan to supply a name.

[ordinarydoctor.livejournal.com]

Not wanting the yolk all over his hands, Citan toed a couple of yellow-streaked avocados back into the fallen bag. He didn't have to look around to know that the incident had drawn a small crowd; he could feel a dozen curious eyes on him as he dealt with the mess.

And then there were a dozen more as Gabranth came over with the child in tow, intrigued and warily expectant all at once; it was likely they were wondering just what a man of his position was doing in this part of town. The sudden intensity of their stares made the hair on the back of Citan's neck rise, warning, and he glanced up to see the two approach. The Bangaa looked chastised and the man, who sported some impressive and rather dangerous-looking armor, carried himself like an authority figure. Indeed, the youth muttered an apology for running into him before making a hasty escape.

"It is all right," he said anyway, taking Gabranth's outstretched hand. Although it was probably impossible to feel just how strong his grip was through all that armor, Citan's handshake was brisk and confident--surprisingly so, given the Magister's fearsome appearance. "The food is easily replaced, and I should hope that he will think better of it the next time he wants to run through a crowded street!"

Or not, given how quickly he'd taken off after he was out of reach. Citan shrugged helplessly, smiling--kids; what can you do?--as Snow came up beside them. "Citan Uzuki," he finished when the man trailed off, and it was he who extended a hand this time, to Snow. "Thank you very much for the offer. Accidents happen, but I appreciate it, especially as my pockets are a bit light at the moment." He was rueful. Even with a discount, a sword of the caliber he'd bought cost quite a bit, particularly on his current income.

[judgeronsenburg.livejournal.com]

Basch's smile was too well hidden under his helmet, but it was evident in his voice when Snow joined their acquainting as he shook Citan's hand.

"The feeling is mutual my friend." replied Grabranth. Snow's vibrance was a true sign that he was in good spirits and not making idle pleasantries. A good portion of the crowd had slowly converted back to the usual hustle and bustle that was the marketplace.

After Citan accepted Snow's promise of payment Basch said "Citan, this is Snow Villiers. A good and honest friend."

It was when Citan extended his hand, it was then that Gabranth noticed the immaculate sheathed katana. "Are you a collector?" he asked as he motioned an invite to walk together through the marketplace. he would find time to visit Migelo's another time, he was sure to be in Rabanastre for at least a few days and had hours before going to the castle.

Although Basch was quite sure Snow knew why he had come to Rabanstre, he was curious as to how Snow was handling the state of affairs in regards to Queen Ashe. Of course he wouldn't bring up such a topic in public. Something to ask at a better time. "What is it that you do Citan?" Gabranth asked. "I am quite familiar with Rabanastre, but I don't believe I have seen you before."

[icy-hot-touches.livejournal.com]

Snow smiled at Gabranth's tone of voice, nodding softly and following along beside the two men as they made their way through the hustle and bustle. He too was curious as to why a man like Citan, that is to say a man who appeared scholarly and peaceful, would require such a fine weapon. He understood the desire to protect oneself, but people who weren't looking for trouble usually used easily disguised weapons such as daggers, or weighted gloves, so as to not make targets of themselves. As it was, a young man seeking a taste of blood in a duel might make it Citan's business to provide.

He took stock of what he would be able to find in the marketplace as they went, waving to people he knew while listening to the others speak. Snow didn't have anything to say at the moment, and was content to listen, especially since Citan was an outsider to the city. Snow wasn't from Rabanastre either, hell, he wasn't even from Dalmasca. He hailed from Bikanel Island, where all Al Bhed came from, and even though he knew it wasn't his origin, now, he still thought of them as his family.

Speaking of which, he certainly should check in and inform them of the change in his status.. He wasn't leaving Dalmasca, but he wasn't wedding it's Queen either. They would expect word from him..

[ordinarydoctor.livejournal.com]

As the three of them began to walk, Citan shifted his remaining bags to nestle in the crook of his arm and glanced down at the katana. Its weight on his hip was at once familiar and strange; he wasn't used to the way it sat yet. "I am not a collector, I am afraid." He rubbed the back of his head--he looked sheepish, as if he knew full well that most people wouldn't believe him. The idea of such a bookish-looking man with a deadly weapon sounded ridiculous at best and dangerous at worst if he swung it the wrong way. "I..."

He hesitated before continuing on, but, although he had no particular wish to add to the wealth of rumors already circulating through Rabanastre, Gabranth and Snow had probably heard all of them already.

"Well, I am sure you have both heard of the murders here in Lowtown? It would be remiss of me to ignore a potential danger outside of my own door. This seems as good a time as any to take up a blade again." Citan's smile was smaller and much less vibrant now--it was more unguarded, tired and almost sad. Strife in the lower echelons wasn't new to him or most anyone else who lived in a slum, but it never became any less trying. Worse, this culture was largely foreign to him. He felt like he was on his first mission to the surface all over again, bewildered by the people and the animals and even the sky over his head, but this time there was no objective and no promise of ever returning home.

Not that he would go into that with anyone he met here. They'd probably think him crazy, and how could he blame them, really? So he went gratefully with the change of subject, gesturing at a small side street as they passed it. "I work as a doctor. My practice is down at the end of that street...or perhaps it is the next one over?" Even if his accent and curious manner of dress had somehow not marked him as a foreigner, the puzzled look on his face certainly did. He hadn't entirely learned his way around yet. "Somewhere nearby, at any rate. It is not much, but I am lucky to have found it so soon after coming here."

[judgeronsenburg.livejournal.com]

Citan's explanation on his purchase for the weapon garnered Gabranth's attention. Of course he had been through Lowtown during his travels before taking the mantle of his brother. That and that had also been the home of Penelo and Vaan.

"I've not heard of these killings." said Gabranth as they walked on, his armored boots made a noise that was hardly audible due to the activity of the marketplace. "In fact, I have only just left the aerodome. But that would be quite understandable." he looked over to Snow. "As for you my friend, I am quite sure you would be able to handle that situation should it arise." They had went on quite a trip up Bur-Omisace together.

None the less, he would bring it to the Queen and King's attention when he had the chance. Naturally he would volunteer his services, even if they had the extra manpower to spare.

When Citan had trouble pinpointing where his office was. A doctor not knowing where his home was? He must have just moved into Rabanastre. Again he looked to Snow. "Any ideas my friend? I have been gone from Rabanastre for quite a while."

[icy-hot-touches.livejournal.com]

Snow put a finger to his chin, and thought for a moment. After all, he lived in Lowtown, and walked the streets of Rabanastre these days, so the city was as familiar to him as it was any local, "Let's see.. my place is down that road, deep on in Lowtown.. Though I've heard of a new doctor at the practice down this way." he smirked playfully, "Well, let's see if the rumours I've heard of the new doctor are true, and we'll see if that's you." Snow patted the man's shoulder, "Once we get that stuff for you. I wanted to get some bread, anyway."

Snow took them to a vegetable stall, where he placed a sum of gil in Citan's hand that far outweighed the need he would have to buy vegetables. Before the man could object, though, he trotted over to a baker's stall, and selected a dark, fragrant bread that would go well with the stew on his hearth. "Mmh.."

[ordinarydoctor.livejournal.com]

"That way?" Citan pointed off in the indicated direction, startled, and gave it a closer look. Then he laughed. "I see! I have not been in Rabanastre for terribly long, so I still turn around and find myself lost.

"I--ah?--" The money that Snow put in his hand felt heavier than it should have. He made a noise that sounded like a half-formed protest, but the man was already off to another stall. Citan looked down at the gil, then pocketed it somewhat reluctantly. "Thank you," he murmured despite the fact that his benefactor was long out of earshot. He wouldn't refuse Snow's kindness--that would be an insult.

He began to hunt one-handedly through the produce in search of replacements for the food that had been ruined, weighing things and checking them over for bruises. His attention, however, wasn't entirely on shopping. "As to the killings," he said to Gabranth, "there have been a string of them this week, and several just last night. Everyone has his pet theories, of course, but they all sound very...brutal."

[judgeronsenburg.livejournal.com]

"Rest assured it will be looked into and dealt with." Gabranth said as he watched Snow purchase some fresh bread. He then looked back to Citan identifying the fresh fruits and vegetables. "After all, we can't have this happened in my friend's backyard after all." he said lightly in reference to Snow.

"Now then, I have to at least report to the castle and let them know of my arrival. If I am ever injured, I will be sure to ask for your services Citan." said Basch before giving a light bow.

"I'll see if I am needed at the castle first, but I will try and catch up with you." he said to Snow. He was sure his friend would have a little more than hearsay on the matter. Maybe even possible suspects that Basch could interrogate. "Until then, it was a pleasure to see you both."

[icy-hot-touches.livejournal.com]

Snow nodded softly upon returning, and hearing that Gabranth would be heading to the palace. Smiling, he patted his friend's shoulder, "Don't mention me unless asked, hmm? I do not wish to be a stigma, after all." his smile was, perhaps, too casual after that statement, but then he turned to Citan and nodded smoothly, "How about I take you back to your home, then? I don't have any pressing business now that I have my bread. The stew is saved!" he grinned boyishly, and nodded down the street.

"Wouldn't want that 'Rogue Judge' fellow taking you down on the way. Even with a sword, an armful of groceries isn't going to help, huh?"

[ordinarydoctor.livejournal.com]

Citan, satisfied with the vegetables he'd selected, turned to smile at Basch. "You as well, Judge Gabranth. And in the unfortunate event that you are injured, you know my general area." Down at the end of that street...or perhaps the next one over.

He collected a basket of eggs as well, paid for his food, and, once again ladened with three bags instead of two, nodded to Snow. "I cannot offer much in return unless you are in need of a doctor, but I would appreciate it! I suppose the groceries would be the least of my worries if I met him, but dropping them again would simply be terrible." He laughed, settling into a stroll beside the other man again.