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[The network gets greeted with a milky-eyed stare and a ghoulish line-face.]

There was another explosion. This time in the mines. Two people dead, no survivors.

[He and Boone searched as thoroughly as possible. He doubted anyone down there survived anyway.

He makes a small contemplative sound as he wonders if he should add anything else, but decides he really just wanted to make that little PSA and that was it.]

That's all.

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Goddammit. I'll be over there, too.

[Security Filtered]

Keep a lid on who they are from the public. There's a guy investigating to see if there are specific targets.

Unless they got mangled so bad you can't recognize 'em.

Of course.

[Honestly the amount of information he gave in the announcement is about as much explaining as he planned on doing.]

I did not recognize them no. Their faces were far too scorched.

That's not good. I don't really see the point in targeting explorers way out in the field. Could always call terrorism but it uh... I don't know. It doesn't seem right.

Little guy down there seems kinda anxious, don't you think?

[He says "little guy" but Narvin is Boone's height. Maybe it's because Boone has a pretty big presence and Narvin has a wee one.]

I thought they might have been crazies with explosives. But they would've left something to trace back to them.

[Crazies probably wouldn't be this good at covering their tracks. Unless they were some kind of genius crazy, but he doubts it.]

The technician. He wanted to take readings. [How and on what, he doesn't know. Computers and fancy tech elude him.] I told him to stay out of the mines.

Yeah, seems like it. We'll have a good look at it.

That eagerness worries me. At the very least he might end up compromising the scene so hold 'er down until more security is out there.

[Nodding his head.]

No one who isn't supposed to will pass me.

[He is pretty confidant in that at least.]

Good man.

[Not that Charon needs anyone's approval but he's gonna tell someone if they're doing a good job.]

[Rassilon's ghost, another one. And this time with fatalities. Whoever's behind this, they're escalating. Narvin wonders if a public building might be next. Any one of the businesses in Blackway that could be a potential target.]

Keep the mines clear of civilians. I'll be right there to take some readings.

[Narvin is forgetting that he's technically a civilian.]

You are a civilian, by the way.

[Kay hasn't.]

Which means you gotta do as he says.

Ah.

Yes.

Of course.

[Pause.]

I am at the security office's disposal.

[It's a bit odd not giving orders.]

Edited (wrong icon) 2014-06-30 23:53 (UTC)

I think I can manage the readings in favor of preserving the integrity of the scene. You can just take it easy.

[It was a little suspicious before, and he wonders if he used to be security, but there's also the really obvious options that he a.) could be out to get someone and sees things he's not telling or b.) might want to sabotage the crime scene.]

[Either way his hackles are raise pretty high. Might ask the other people what they think.]

[He wants to protest, but he catches himself. He's not Chancellor here, or Coordinator. Agent K is security and he is not.

Still, it rankles to sit back and do nothing while some terrrorist is blowing up the landscape.]

All right. I shall be in the tech lab if you change your mind.

[Charon sure doesn't recognize him as one of the members of the security team, that's for sure.]

You're not security. Who are you?

Narvin.

I'm a computer specialist and technician. I work in the research lab analyzing alien tech excavated from the ruins.

You're a civilian.

[As far as he's concerned, at least.]

There's no alien tech or computers down there. Just dead bodies. Stay outta the mines.

Yessir. [Narvin says, disappointed and with a tiny touch of snark. Being a civilian is terribly inconvenient when one wants to stick ones nose into everything.]

I'll just stay up here where it's nice and safe and do safe things with the other civilians.

[And try not to let his curiosity and desire to root out the terrorists drive him crazy.]

[Sorry, was that sarcasm? Charon is immune to your sarcasm!]

Sounds like a plan.

Wonderful.

[More sarcasm, spoken in vain in the face of Charon's stoicism.]

Enjoy your crime scene.

[... deaths. There have been... deaths here. Braska cannot allow himself to be too surprised; as idyllic as this place seems, so, too, could Spira appear on the best of days, he knows. But he finds himself wondering... Where is the Farplane for this world? Is there a Farplane?

Though the video is on, there's a lengthy pause before Braska speaks, his expression grave.]

Is there anyone else here who can perform a Sending, do you know?

[Charon waits for the man to speak without saying a word.

Though he doesn't know what a sending is or what it has to do with the dead people in the mines.]

What do you mean "perform a sending"?

[Did he want to send someone somewhere?]

[... he was worried about that.]

A funeral rite performed by summoners to ensure that the souls of the deceased have moved on peacefully to the Farplane, so they do not linger and become fiends.

[a pause]

But I suppose... that answer makes just as little sense, doesn't it? [A soft smile, even at a time like this.] The Farplane is the rightful resting place of those who have passed on, in Spira. Those souls who are not Sent and do not find their way there on their own inevitably turn into fiends -- monstrous creatures who attack the living. Those who remain in the world... are afraid, and angry, and, in their isolation, these feelings can only develop into envy and hatred. It is this hostility that leads the lingering dead to come together to coalesce into new forms -- to give new life to their unrest.

[... another pause.] Of course... It's possible that my concern here is unfounded. Perhaps this is a world that is not plagued by fiends. [Just as it has never known the wrath of Sin.] But... I would rather be safe, than sorry. [His smile fades.] And... I admit, although I am well-practiced in the art of Sending, there are... complications, that come with my doing so.

[The entire explanation sounds like it's way too steeped in spiritualism and stuff Charon doesn't really understand, nor does he particularly care about. He can't tell if these "fiends" are a real physical thing where this man comes from or if it's anything like all those "vengeful pissed off ghost" stories people used to tell.]

This world ain't like mine either, but I think when people die here that's it. Light's out. Don't think them coming back as a monster is a real concern.

[Braska's expression, already serious, flickers. Light's out. That's... He draws in a deep breath. That's like what Kay said. Braska... can only hope, that -- something like this... isn't... common.

Still -- I think, he said. He doesn't know for sure.

Braska manages a smile, because he doesn't know what his face would do without one right now.]

A blessing, then. [The urge to perform the prayer here is difficult. Braska swallows hard instead.] But, do we know for certain?

[Charon's not equipped to deal with all this deep talk of death and what happens afterwards. He can't say "yes" because he's never died before, what the hell does he know? But he doesn't want to get caught up arguing something that, as far as he's concerned, doesn't matter.]

It's been a couple hours and they're still dead on the ground. Not turning into monsters. You tell me.

[Quite frankly the obsession with the dead rather than the actual situation is more suspicious to Charon.]

[Braska will leave the investigation to those who have the skills for it. Taking care of the souls of the dead? That's something he has skills for. That's how he can help.]

It isn't always something that happens immediately. It takes time.

[a beat] I suppose... either way, a Sending wouldn't hurt anything. ... I hope. [But that just makes him look troubled again. That still leaves the question of who is there to do it? Braska is the only Spiran. There may not be other cultures present who have something like the Sending. ... but... he... hrrrgh.]

No one's allowed near the bodies right now.

[Let's just make that clear first and foremost. The last thing they need is some weird ass ritual screwing up the crime scene.]

No; that is not what I...

[Flustered, and a little frustrated, Braska bows.]

My apologies. I did not mean to imply I would disrespect the dead. [No, that's the last thing he means to do here.] I'm just... concerned.

Edited (better icon) 2014-07-15 15:17 (UTC)

[Tauriel has to fight down a wave of queasiness when she sees Charon's video so it takes her some time to actually work up the nerve to respond.]

Did this just occur and do you know who was killed?

[He'll wait patiently. Or impatiently, though that doesn't really show.]

Give or take an hour or two. [They called for security once they lost touch with them, so it's not like they were sitting down there dead for too long.] Their faces were scorched beyond recognition. I could not tell you who they were.

[Its rare that she comes across someone ugly enough to make an orc look handsome. It is a shock. ]

What of their clothes? Were they wearing anything that might identify them?

[He makes up for it with personality -- okay no he doesn't.]

It was an explorer and his guide, s'all I know right now. We will probably know who exactly they were very soon.

[At least he has some personality... she thinks.]

I will be sure to keep note of that. Do you think we should advise against others exploring right now?

[A grumpy personality.]

That would probably be wise.

[She is used to those.]

Do you think we should ask for more people to patrol the fence as well?

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